EARPHONE PURCHASE GUIDE

DO YOU KNOW WHY I HAVE NO TECH? Apart from that it was my brother that insisted that we were a techno family, and the British princies were jelly of him so they arranged to have him put in a hospital (trust me, when he looks himself – he’s a million times hotter than any guy ever, and the Arabs (being an Arab, I can say “the Arabs”) accepted it and kicked my family out – the British guys just lied. We are all British passport holders – my siblings and myself – and my family on my mother’s side SERVED here, POLITICALLY. We were INVITED by your ROYAL FAMILY to do so. Back when people took your royal family seriously – that was a long time ago wasn’t it.) (you look worse because what is there for me to lie about? They’re gonna have someone hold a weapon to your heads and have you tell the truth about this on live TV so prepare yourselves.) (Wait: the issue with having ‘disabilities’ – my brother is autistic but he is not stupid and he is not out of control either, and he is not a vulnerable dependent. He likes to have fun. What your country has done to my brother and to ME and even to Russell fucking dickhead brand is why the World is becoming a police state 1984 shithole. ITS YOUR FAULTS. WHOEVER RAISED YOU AND FAILED YOU’S FAULT. You will be held accountable. Trust me.)

I am serious about DESIGN.

My room is an earphone graveyard. I know I’m a Bang and Olufsen person but I think you have to shop around before you pick loyalties. Like premature-brand-love (it’s a marketing term, I did a term of an MA in Advertising and Branding and really misjudged the university and didn’t really talk qualifications with my lecturers before giving them the honour of teaching me.) your intuition might be right about a person’s ‘real’ nature but if you don’t know who they like to hang out with or do business with, their personality and their nature doesn’t matter very much.

There are some items that I use consistently. These are items that deserve investment. I need a good laptop from a reputable manufacturer because everything I do from animation and photography to daily entertainment is on my laptop. I need to wear perfume because I am a smoker, and because I know that the bathwater in the UK needs to be filtered before it is used or it will make my smoker’s skin worse. I need to wear good headphones because all I do is listen to music – and I actually do so to meditate.


Edited 19/Aug/19 to add: After posting the Salt N Pepa song I pussssheed the Earphones into my ear. They squidge out so I stay true to my initial comments. But it was a better listening experience.

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These purple earphones are from Tiger. They cost £1 or £2 quid. 4.5/10

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They were inexpensive, but they work with my laptops full volume – although I can hear myself finger-clicking if I finger-click loud enough. So far… they’ve lasted for a month or two. They fall out if I dance, masturbate or walk hard. They were not designed for people that can dance/masturbate/walk briskly. I like the colour and the design, although I don’t like the ‘jelly’ ear piece variety of earphones, and they aren’t hygienic. I have to clean my ears more than most people because I listen to music loud. And if I don’t this happens:

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I’ll still wear them, wax and dust and all, but it’s not-okay.

Also they don’t appear to have a mic so i can take a shit in them.

If I have a boyfriend, we can hold hands on the streets – but I’m still donning my earphones and they’re going to be full volume.

I am certain that either Omar (my elder brother) or I am the reason they have those consideration stickers on buses for people listening to loud music. I can listen to loudish music with them on, although I don’t think they could stand a heavy bass. But for the price that really isn’t a problem for me.

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These are Goji earphones. These are not good. The company don’t even have a website so I can’t link you to them. I’m embarrassed for you, Goji. They were a thoughtful gift though. A sincere try. I give these 2/10. They look good. They are pretty earphones. They make the briefest cameo in this video.

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The wireless/bluetooth function is also great but you can’t go up/down flights of stairs with them. Most people don’t enjoy the music I listen to because they think it’s embarrassing and these degraded slowly – I got the bumble bee vibration fuzz (that I enjoy and I’m sure it helps me when I meditate)

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This is a less attractive design with visible stitching on the leather, which makes them look cheap. I don’t really personally want to see the stitching work on leather. Sometimes it looks good, mostly it doesn’t look good.

These are Jabra “150-years-of-sound-innovation” Elites. I give them.. uh… a very honest and very generous 1/10 because as far as I’m aware, they have charged for fifteen minutes and they are not giving me the promised 1 hour. Why invest in a writer for the manual copy and lie?

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The one out of ten is because they are actually quite cool-LOOKING to wear, although I didn’t test them underwater.

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And I wasn’t expecting that they would look cool on, either. They do not stay inside my ear enough for the music to be loud enough, so wearing them in the SEA would be USELESS.

They are bluetooth, and that means that they can be hacked. But ideally that means they can be remotely fixed too.

I’m going to leave them charging for 24 hours and see if they decide to work a little bit better.


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This is Kylie J and Headphonesty giving you the side eye on my behalf, in the best earphones I’ve ever had. I picked the rose gold ones but these look so fucking good. I’ll get back to the design of them because thats what I struggled with. KYLIE I KNOW YOU DON’T ACTUALLY LISTEN TO YOUR MUSIC USING THESE EARPHONES. BUT YOU SHOULD. WE CAN TAG TEAM THE MOST EPIC FINAL FANTASY MEDITATION CHANNEL OF US BEING SEXY. (With Jane cos Jane is the best.)

I prefer them with the wire in. It might be a generation thing, the wire.

The Apple store in @Westfield gave us some Dre Beats as a gift, when we bought ourselves some MacBooks and an iMac. Lisa taught me to be more selective about the gifts that I accept and these were accepted absolutely without regret, but like Salt N Peppa doing anime, the design is ahead of it’s time.

(Who did Trunx’s look first you ask, a meditation-ESP sesh with babysitter Tupac who came to tell his me that black people did the military-anime look first.)

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..I think they want Sephiroth though..

OMG tHESE i WAnatA BuY ThEsE

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I’ll wear them with these

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I recently went swimming in Brighton with the Dre Beats bluetooth function and the waterproof iPhone 7 model. The iPhone can’t go deep underwater – and that’ll be what sways me to an upgrade.

“this wan goes to elefen” is a Spinal Tap joke. You should watch Spinal Tap. An ex bestfriends dad (the guy who basically runs the show at RADA but can’t fake being gay  to save his cotton socks and still hasn’t written to me about my honorary scholarship) told us to watch it and you need to. Need to. (Love you Hugh)

Anyway as far as sound goes, I choose tinnitus. It HURTS. The first night that you lay your head down on a pillow is terrifying because all you can hear is a frequency that makes it difficult to sleep, but eventually you sleep. It becomes unnoticeable eventually. But it is distressing at first. I saw in an episode of Southpark – written and animated by Jews – that theres this ritual where they place a bell on boy’s heads and bang on it and it induces tinnitus, telepathy and interconnectedness.

Cute styles.

My period stained shoes.

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Oprah said “don’t cheap out on shoes” and that’s partly why I wont buy these, but I do like the design of them. I’d be more inclined to buy cheap shoes if brands were honest about who they copied the designs from. I feel weird buying them now, because I felt that Karl Lagerfeld had endorsed this company – his cat Choupette was following Public Desire on instagram – and that felt like an okay from a fashion GOD that made me want to buy them, and now he’s fucking disappeared. I don’t believe he’s passed away, or the eulogy in Vogue would have been an entire fucking year of mourning. Do not EVER undermine what it really means for a man to have replaced Coco Chanel.

And by the way – Anna Karina the Danish actress’ real name was more Hanne than Anna, and Coco Chanel picked that name. Do you know what I am like about NAMES? I won’t even use a tumblr with a shit-name.

I don’t care whether he’s eloped with Alexander McQueen or not, the coincidence isn’t acceptable. I think that this company is owned by footballers wives and girlfriends and to pretend otherwise is to shit on everything I have fucking worked towards about telling the truth. Do I want these shoes? YES, do I want to endorse these people stealing designs – no.

I feel implicated, actually, in his disappearance, because I ENDORSED THESE. Whether someone bought them because-of-me or not means fuck all. At the time, I felt and even write – “Karl is so0o designing these, he’s doing a shadow-secret-cheap-brand-thats-sort-of-Fendi-but-for-POOR-PEOPLE”, and what is quite scary actually is that I really, really thought so. These women used me to time travel (yes, it sounds pretty stupid to me too but its not MY life we’re writing about) access memories and to access information from the School of Economic Science, who through many stages teach people to ethically access truth through meditation, discussion with teachers and proper guidance towards a life that makes you ethical enough to be trusted with the kind of truths that help you access higher consciousnesses. The idea that these women used me (they did, but it isn’t about me right now) to do these things is absolutely disgusting. It is terrifying.

If Karl and I have anything in common it is that we pride ourselves on the idea that we can be alone, can exist alone, that we take pride in making other people shine. And I think that I feel quite concerned deep down that he was abused by people who could afford to buy him and his clothes. Not many people can afford a heritage Classic like Chanel – but those women can. And I know that they used to traipse from Fashion House to Fashion House and that while they didn’t have a shoppe that could host Chanel nor Fendi, they could afford to arrange fittings and to meet him. I am genuinely worried that something was done to him and that it is being kept secret. The French police are not renowned for their honesty, nor are British police. Nor any really.

Why these colour palettes @publicdesire? What inspired you originally? If you are a designer this is exactly the kind of thing you need to know. If you are a designer, it is the kind of thing that will keep you the hell up at night.

Why hasen’t (I’m leaving that typo there, ugh) your brand appeared in any real fashion magazines? NO ONE considers GRAZIA a FASHION magazine. It is on par with HELLO magazine, and some weeks after appearing in it, Louise Pentland’s infant Pearl looks completely different. You can look through my memories – I could communicate with that child through a fucking screen. I’d make a face at her and she’d make a face back. She’d cry for no good reason (believe me, I’d know vibrationally if your baby was crying because it was SUFFERING) and I’d shout “CHUT UP” and she fucking chut up (I’m sure my kids through time and space would say “that is so her”, because thats 50% how I speak to things that I love.) and now she looks like a bloated version of her father and I know Louise is too polite to say anything about it but these women, and my “sister” and her friends need to be stopped. You can observe my memories to see me walking through the streets of Denmark on my toes because the ribbons on my shoes kept coming undone and some time later I saw her – A BABY – doing the SAME THING. WALKING ON HER TOES. And then there’s the segment in Louise’s video where she wouldn’t crawl on her knees, she did a military push/pull thing and I communicated that it was painful for babies to learn to crawl on their knees.

It’s so weird, there was this thought journey I took listening to music awhile ago where I was asked by an air hostess I recall meeting at an Emirates interview who asked “if you were asked if you’d give up your body for a ‘better one’ would you accept?” and I can’t help but think that baby agreed to something. I am secretly concerned that my sister and her friends are preparing alternate bodies (YES, it CAN be done) for themselves because when you realise what they’ve all done – you’ll all want them dead.

Cos people really weren’t wearing nudes until I brought a collection of pieces in tie-dye skin tones and khakis back from Syria, Penelope and Monica Cruz did a collection for Mango – which had also been gifted to me.

 

 

 

ARTING IMP

THIS DESIGNER CALLED LAURA HAD ACCESS TO MY MEMORIES. And my imagination. The outfits I DREAMED of wearing. But she’s not the only one and really she’s the best of them.

This is another Laura. She is a very famous celebrity. She might be amongst the most dedicated stalker-cum-one-night-stands that Russell Brand could’ve possibly invited into his life actually.

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This was a topshop haul I could afford shortly before this photo was 
taken. Money can't buy you taste can it.

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 I uploaded the images to this album cos I needed to clear
space, because my laptop was being hacked and I couldn't use it
to do fucking anything.
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It is weird cos I recently watched an episode of Wendy Williams and she said something like “the way you get him is the way you’ll lose him.” I ‘got him’ when he was single, when he was living alone (actually I think he had some weird people living with him and I communicated that at the time) and when he sort of seemed grown up enough to be interesting to me. I was SO mistaken and for every mistake he made I did something that I think was hurtful to someone whose ego had been massaged by every single person that he had dedicated his penis? to.

I want it to be known that I lost respect for him when someone who clearly believed that he is the reincarnation of Jesus Christ confessed in a church and infront of a lot of people, and there was a priest there too – that she had cheated on someone she was married to and he fucked it up because he turned it into a gossip moment when all he had to do was talk to her sincerely about what happened in her marriage to make her feel unloved enough to cheat on someone that she should’ve probably told the truth to before cheating. He is not a person that you should have sought advice from, and I know she knew she should have spoken to ME but the reality is that people don’t want to accept who I really am.

And the karma is the same.

Find any woman you like and pretend she can do a better job of being the ‘spiritual leader’ you think that you need – ANY WOMAN. I can even offer women I think better than me as spiritual teachers but I promise that you’ll be redirected, eventually, right back to me for the solution.

I prefer shifting what you’d call blame onto my spiritual teachers, I prefer believing with all of my heart that there are people who are wiser than I am but that isn’t true, it is only true when it comes to people that I am attracted to. I act nice.

But some people can do energy work and they do it to make you think you’re attracted to them.

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Were you defending a blonde, lifecfiono?

She is quite honestly a disgusting person, we’ve never held a chat with one another but I’m a people person. I know you already. I don’t know what kind of fucking person would drag a ‘celebrity’ baby to a meeting in a church filled with addicts, and then sit in there while the baby fucking cried.

Stalking her own husband – with child – into a dangerous fucking place. Thumbs up. Cool stuff.

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RUSSELL BRANDS BITCHWIFE STARTED EMBROIDERING THIS SHIT SHORTLY
AFTER I ORDERED TOWELS WITH THE WORDS BLOOD RARE ON THEM. 

INSPIRED BY MY GRANMA CONCHITA WHO SEWED AND EMBROIDERED WRITTEN
SENTIMENTS ON CUSHIONS FOR MY FAMILY AND MYSELF.

But I'll take time to explain why. Firstly - she's not blonde. 
She and her ashkenazi Jew boyfriend/husband? left a hospital with a 
blonde child. You want to pretend that blonde child is theirs? 
Dooo you? The doctors must've thought she's a real blonde.

A LOT OF WOMEN HAD TO DYE THEIR HAIR BLONDE TO ESCAPE SOME
VERY SERIOUS BULLYING DIDN'T THEY.

She began this ‘JoyJournal’ company after seeing my memories, where I had a little baby towel embroidered and it had the words “BLOOD RARE” on it. Because that would’ve been my dream daughter.

I have the Blood Rare towel and I’ll find a photo but til then, this is one of the things I ordered.

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At the time I was having an internet-relationship of sorts with Russell Brand, she was a one night stand he’d met about ten years before all of that, and if any of the Lauras I’ve known in the past are something to go by, she was also a looong time stalker of mine. They got pregnant/married/engaged etc while I had conveniently been shipped off to a psychiatric ward where I was fed sedatives I did not need (I can fall asleep whenever I want) and betrayed by everyone I knew to protect what was a really disgusting secret at my expense. I wouldn’t be surprised if he wasn’t trying to make me jealous, but the reality is that he was single when I started wanting to hang out with him and he kept being retarded.

He hung out with a lot of people that felt comfortable being very controlling over him and I think that out of love he allowed them to do so. Every time I gave him five minutes of my trust, something weird would happen moments afterwards which indicated that there was no privacy anyway, which meant if he didn’t want to hang out it’s because he wasn’t that into me but was probably quite taken by the fact that he and I are both probably reincarnations of Jesus Christ and Mary Magdalene.

I don’t think they got on or if they did, they didn’t really. Or there were a lot of people influencing their relationship and she probably just wanted to be with Judas and he wasn’t that interested because he was an intense guy with a lot of issues.

There are so many theories I think around this and ultimately my initial impressions of Jesus Christ’s ‘virgin’ mother were that while she might’ve been persecuted for having a sexual relationship that she had to keep quiet, she was also a fucking cunt.


I had a friend called Tim that I introduced to some girls I was at school with, and they introduced him to their female friends – and amongst those a ‘wiccan’ called ‘Laura’, and until now he claims that she had told him she had managed to enter a long term relationship with him because she had cast a “love spell” on him. Tim is the son of a scientist, and he is not the kind of person – wasn’t anyway – that believed in anything of that nature. Actually the mere idea of it then, would’ve been funny and nonsensical. But she was a stalker of mine. And she remained one when I had set up friendship groups and when I left these people’s lives. I was pass the parcelled with Latymer boys, I ended up being pushed onto a guy called Felix who ALSO had a girlfriend called Laura who I tried to ‘steal’, he stayed with her, she copied me and my look. Felix picked Laura over me and every felix and laura in the world will be paying for all of this stupid shit that keeps happening to me.

TRUST ME, MAGICCK IS REAL.

But you better stop copying me. It is STEALING.


When my Granma was a diplomat, my grandfather an AMBASSADOR – a very well decorated one in medals that Paraguay wanted out – they were invited to either JAPAN or to the UNITED KINGDOM. My granma and my grandfather were both in love with the Emperor and Empress of Japan and it was another time, where bisexuality was not socially acceptable or even really a thought that crossed people’s minds, especially not MARRIED people’s minds. My grandfather chose the United Kingdom because my granma was in love with the Emperor and Empress of Japan, and he said “you do not compete with the Japanese.”

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When I was younger – I wanted to have my legs shaved down. I was FOURTEEN years old and I, with my mother, said to a doctor “I want to have the muscle removed from my legs” because all the girls I knew had skinny legs. I played Street Fighter and my brother telepathically said “she has big legs and you fancy her, don’t you?” “yes”

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I preferred playing as Sakura. Sakura is a character called Ryu’s ultimate fangirl. I am ultimate fangirl to a few people.

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Then this was aired at 3AM in Paraguay when I visited Granma, and I had jetlag and it’s about a girl called Card Captor Sakura. I got upset because my siblings had been gifted lots of creative items and I felt I hadn’t really been given anything. I wasn’t allowed to keep my cushion because I was probably really too young to appreciate how much work it would have taken for my granma to sit in a hospital wing hand sewing and embroidering it. My ‘mother’ lied about it later in life and it was a compulsive lie atop many compulsive lies – and compulsive lying is a mental illness.

I liked playing as Rose too but a girl called Amy stole her from me because she was shit at Street Fighter and the scarf move gave her distance.

 

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It’s fine, I chose – when she stole my character – badly

RAINBOW MIKA. Which she then also stole.

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This is our signature move. The hair flip.

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Which later inspired LEVI.


First things first. I’m cheating on Alexander McQueen. (He is gay. It’d start out with me playing dress up in his performance art mansion where he’d host as fashion aristocracy (because Karl is fashion royalty) all sorts of beautiful people making art and being art and eating ONLY art ALL DAY. He would eventually get bored and mind control me to have a sex change of sorts and we’d be responsible for unleashing to the world some of the most ridiculously beautiful people ever to have existed. And then he’d probably lose interest again (because that is the nature of fashion, that is the nature of artists) and I’d say “I HAD A SEX CHANGE FOR YOU!!!” and he’d say “HAVE ANOTHER” and guiltlessly so, because that is his honest self, because I value honesty and genius that accompanies cruelty, because I look for people that can TAKE MY ABUSE. And it’d be my fault if I agreed to it, because who the hell just does something like that because they’re influenced to? I’m a performance artist too, inside, damnit)

I WOULD have sex with Alexander McQueen, but he would be USING me to make people jealous. Thats it. He didn’t love himself until recently, when I really got upset that I thought he’d died and I actually really felt towards the him that probably created of him that artist. The him that was a bit chubby and terribly attired. This genius that could (WATCH PAPRIKA.) envision beautiful clothes for women, and still be so understated and really that wasn’t him. He didn’t like men’s clothes. He didn’t even have a chance to be himself.

If we got together prematurely, he’d LEAVE me for someone “BETTER”. And if he found someone “BETTER” I’d be like “oh. god, i won’t compete with that.” First of all, I’m HONEST. I’m a bitch but when I’m a bitch I am SO honest.

And then there might be some part of him that thinks “Why isn’t she fighting for me?” WELL ALEXANDER. The issue with loving people is you just think they’re right about EVERYTHING. (Well, me, thats what I do, when I love people. I listen to them. I stupidly fucking listen to them. ALSO. WHY NOT IZZY. WHY HAVE YOU NOT DATED IZZY. She was married, he’d say. Technically she is still married. Why didn’t you date both? SHUT UP

If you love someone, let them go if they want to go. If you really love someone you value their right to GROW. If someone picks someone else over you, and you know you are the one that can show them the love you know that they deserve – and they choose someone else – they are not ready for you. You might be a lesson they have to hold onto forever. A lesson that has them sitting in a rocking chair going backwards and forwards in some sad OAPs home because they were uncomfortable that you had more body hair than some bitch called ‘laura’ or ’emma’ or ‘rachel’ or ‘liz’ or – god – give me a name that sums up the hairless white-looking woman with a tan? (I have room in my life for one or maybe two of those, and they better be more magical than I am because otherwise I’d find them all quite annoying and what a genetic holocaust that would be.) (I have been called stupid my entire life, but at least I know that two dark haired people can’t have a blonde child.) (Were you defending a blonde to steal that child?) (Don’t worry – you can give her back all her blonde kids, and I’ll be having one of my Levis.) (Unless she says “no, I prefer this one – and you can let them keep those kids. Trust me: they despise of their parents.) (I’d reply “Good, because he knows what he wants and I think he makes good decisions. He deserves to feel wanted.”)


Whats that line? I’m the price you had to pay (If you have to ‘abuse’ someone to get a child, say “i’d rather fucking not.”) (Unless you were abused by that person first and you’re being KIND by returning the favour. Guilt is HELL.)

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Before you shit your lingerie – I can’t actually afford Alexander McQueen, I’m not REALLY cheating on Alexander McQueen. And if I were to cheat on him he’d be using me to cheat.

But once: I paid him in attention. For what? I have no fucking clue, to help him shit? Like it’s a compliment? To help him design? (LETS BE HONEST. I WANTED CLOTHES LIKE THE ONES THEY HAD IN FINAL FANTASY AND I COULDN’T GET THEM. YOU CAN DESIGN CLOTHES LIKE THAT MCQUEEN, BUT YOU WON’T FIND MANY PEOPLE THAT KNOW HOW TO WEAR THEM. DO YOU THINK CHERRENE AND HER FRIENDS WERE GOING TO BUY YOUR CLOTHES? THEY WORE SHIT LIKE THIS. IN PUBLIC.)

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I will say though, these were a trend started by two Jewish sisters. I read through their ‘about me’ page on their site.

Let me, um. Get thsssspechificc about what I KNOW I did for you.

ONLY I CAN TAKE THIS (AND LOVE IT)

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AND THIS (AND LOVE IT)

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And turn it into a cardigan donning PERFECT ANGEL.

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“no loyalty” MY ASS.

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I will show you “no loyalty”. You and my old friends – further back than I care to remember anymore – that waited for ME to disappear to ‘do me’.

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I used >>PaletteGenerator<< To find these colours.

How fantastic are these colour pallettes? (I learned that word from Pokémon I think. I misspelt pallettes but how beautiful are double L’s and double T’s?)

The designers that watched my visions and saw the look I imagined for myself and made sure I didn’t get the things I DREAMED of having.

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"don't worry, it's not finished", is the thing it took me years to
say to myself about every single piece of art in my room. In fact
every single piece of art I have ever done, I have felt insecure
about. 

If you feel insecure showing your work, that is the best motivation
you have to get better at creating. If you created a piece of art
in a DAY, that is not an art. It is a creative journal entry.
You keep adding to it. Journal entries might even BE your art, 
in which case you should keep making them. I like to add three things
to every page of a sketchbook everytime I open it.

Even if it is a few dots, a slightly more dramatic eye sparkle.

The right thing to say
is 

"this is an art, it is incomplete but it will evolve, and when I feel
to: I add something towards it."

I don't know what musicians are doing, releasing new albums
every fucking year. You felt all of this in a year? DID YOU?
No. RERELEASE ALBUMS.

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I wanted to manifest a style and an artist's identity when I started
listening to Esther Hicks. I wanted an Art Gallery in a Squat.
I wanted to design a game. There are things I wanted to do and
apparently in teaching myself to animate, a lot of little kids
very creepy dads started picking up the skill too - and without
in any way crediting me but making sure that their kids weird
play videos were seen by me. It is great that I've given so many
parents ideas for how to bond with their kids though, I hope that
has lessened their kids suffering. Deeper down I hope with all of my
heart that those kids parents are not pedophiles.
To be clear - a pedophile is a sex criminal - a person who doesn't
even give a child the chance to knowingly consent or otherwise to
a physical or non-physical relationship of any kind. Who doesn't
tell the child the truth before that child makes contact with them
that the adult will perceive as sexual. It is very likely that child
has no idea that they are doing something sexual because children
are not sexual beings. 

I am going to embarrass someone here - but I do so only out of love
and kindness and it is an invitation to come back and be the head
of my family if you so choose to forgive my weird family for the sake
of my aunt who was & is loyal to you, if a bit of a material girl. 
I don't think she believed for one moment that you had really passed.
The 'psychic' gene comes from both sides of my family. That is, we
had to learn to use intuition because if you are really from a family
of many generations of humanitarian work or power, you need to go by
more than physical evidence if you want to survive. It is something of
a gift that you develop over many, many generations. Unless you are
connected to me - my first impression used to be absolutely flawless
until the police, the army, the princes of uk etc started stalking me
with such tremendous efforts that they didn't consider that I was 
a distraction. Kind of like this healer archetype.

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I have been able to channel spirit since I was an infant. 
A non-related relative once was certain that I was the reincarnation 
of a wife he loved very, very much who he thought had passed away. 
Well I will tell you that I have no doubts that she was trying to
communicate but that she did so unethically. 

I can forgive anything once I have the truth. But it's a choice.

(Hurting my animals, hurting my older brother - is something I assure
you that no one who knew either my animals nor my brother will 
forgive you for. Maybe my 'sister', but she's a MESS. She has not
loved ANYTHING. IN HER ENTIRE LIFE. but as far as my animals and
my brother go, if you hurt either, you have made an enemy of all the 
little girls that would say "my friends (I was not) older brother 
Omar will kill you if you hurt me" and they MEANT it.) 

When you are a child you learn - if I tell the truth about this 
naughty thing, I've done.. it is likely I will be punished for it. 
Cause and Affect/Effect. Consequence.

That can be frightening and it can deter you from telling the truth, 
but you also need to learn in LIFE - that if you DON'T tell the truth,
it will eventually be found out.

You cannot hide the truth. The consequences are often much worse, if
you keep what you've done a secret. It makes sense that our british
princes would have run from the truth, would have arranged for the
police to abuse my brother and i, would have arranged for the 
military to abuse us. 

I return to this relative: I think he married me to save me a lot of
shit, thinking with sincerity that I was someone I was CHANNELLING.
I once wrote in a blog that those that you love but are not around
are energies that you pour into people that you speak to. If you
spend all your time thinking about somebody, you will make the person
that you project that love onto that person. 

I used to sit on his lap and tense/relax and somehow I had 
prematurely learned to enjoy that physical sensation and I am
entirely mortified that I did that to him. I mean obviously there
was weird stuff going on - it was either my mother or my sister 
that were encouraging me to do that, or someone who was time 
travelling that I would have had to of trusted as some kind of
authority. But imagine if you had plenty of reason to truly believe
that a child was the reincarnation of a person that you had lost -
to the point that you'd say so in a religious court - what could 
really stop you from interacting with that child as you would have
with the person that you had loved and lost?

The police only matter to a solipsist if they have attempted to
give themselves significance. Some people are desperate for 
significance. I was sexually molested and stalked by police who might
have given tax payers all sorts of excuses to escape the reality that
they were suffering with addiction. 

I am gifted in that I can help ANYONE overcome a physical addiction -
I can help people get over any drug or habit that i do not have 
myself. The sacrifice though, for me, isn't always worth it.
(Like you need to be hot, incredible etc - for me to be okay with it)
(the police know that the second that they put on that weird little
outfit, or start doing the undercover cop thing, they are essentially
walking irritation, they are acne on the skin of this country,
the are unattractive. So they use people they've touched without
permission to remotely view people.) 

Those Alcoholic Anonymous sorts that Russell Brand hangs out with are
a very controlling and weird cult that to an extent keep society safe
but to help an addict you have to have been one. 



I think it is sad that my belongings - belongings I had collected at
great personal expense to myself and my being were either left in a
flat occupied by people that had no idea of their value (Five
thousand pounds or so worth of Saffron flowers that had been 
individually picked in Syria - my stupid parent didn't have a clue
as to how much Saffron was worth.) and either sold them or trashed
them. Promise that some of my belongings are worth more than most
of the people's worth walking through that flat.



I'm sure my old landlord is mortified that he showed off that a girl
whose "dad was in iron maiden" was occupying a room of that flat.
Is that how you all introduce yourselves? Through your parents
accomplishments? Is that how you feign status? Your parents might be
epic, but if they are celebrities of any kind I advise that you do
not go around telling people, no matter how proud you are, because
it is a risk to your personal safety. And your "friends" personal
safety. (Unless your dad went around saying "I'm in Iron Maiden")



I still do. The issue is that everything I wanted seemed to be
assumed by someone that was listening in without permission.

First I will have to manifest privacy. Consequences met to those
who without invitation invade my privacy, thoughts, inner sight etc.



IT OKAY BECOTH I FIND BEAUTY WHERE OTHER PEOPLE DONTNAE FINDAE THAE BEAUTAE.

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DEAD FLOWERS. THE FAKE STUFF. THE TACKY, CHEAP STUFF.

(You want to tell me that my sister and her friends were the kind of people to ‘really like’ artists like Vince Ray?) (I once saw a metal trunk full of invitations that I helped to put in envelopes for events at a club called ‘AURA’ or something, it had invitations that had been illustrated using a Vince Ray graphic novel. SOo00000oo0o CHERRENE AND HER FREIHASNDKSFDSSSSSSS isnt it) (You chose the most DISGUSTING kinds of people over me – the insult of that will never go. EVER.)

3391-98606

[ref, image accessed 17 August 2019]

Are you sure my “sister” was paying for those Alexander McQueen scarves with her Harrods salary? ARE YOU QUITE CERTAIN. She’s a fucking whore! (OR was she whoring someone else out?) (perhaps a few of their artist friends?)

There’s this line in Memoirs of a Geisha where Mameha says to Saiyuri after she’s been molested abit “YOU SOLD YOURSELF FOR A KIMONO?!”

And she’s like “I AM NACHT WORTHLESS” cos she really didn’t.

I liked Saiyuri because she had blue eyes and black hair and her character fell off a roof and she was reduced to nothing throughout her youth because someone encouraged her to do something stupid – and she did so to chase after a sister that didn’t give a shit about anyone but herself.

I liked Hatsumomo more – because she paid for fucking everything. Pumpkin wanted a HAUSU but didn’t put the work into having that HAUSU. Hatsumomo just wanted to love. She did not perform kindness, she was a cold hearted bitch and she made sure you knew that.

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[snitching ref]

This skirt was RIPPED OFF FINAL FANTASY X-2. THE ONE I REFUSED TO PLAY FOR SOME REASON. All I wanted was to look like this. I used to cut my hair myself, but also I’d ask hairdressers to cut my hair but leave a bit longer, for the plait when I got negged for my hair.

I was doing these hairstyles.

4y00l2litcr11

maxresdefault

yuna20wardrobe20theory

 

WHAT CAN ARTISTS LEARN FROM MATHEMATICIANS? Me included btw – but when I showed this I did say “these are not ALL of my illustrations, SOME ARE – these were taken from a storybook” but I didnt credit the artists, photographers etc.

 

In life you ought to value that kind of honesty – I always did. But it came with a threat – “I am the biggest regret of your life.”


I was meant to buy an iPhone. Just an iPhone 7, to replace the one that was removed from my room. It’ll be replaced again because stealing my things has really scary consequences. Ask all the people that have stolen from me.

I used my iPhone as a camera and an mp3. I chose THESE. There’s just so much I~N~S~P~I~R~A~T~I~O~N. I mean you could, quite honestly, base a whole collection on these shapes, colours, textures.

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It’s Tom Ford’s (CAN YOU TELL OR NO?) and it makes me smell good. And it makes me shiny. It’s not a pour on oil, it’s a perfume bottle, or I’d make one of those very tacky videos of me pouring liquid gold on myself.

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I have been dressing up and putting photos of myself in various states of nudity on the internet since I was about fifteen years old, and if you ‘did not know that’ you are lying. Or you are from somewhere in Vietnam and you genuinely don’t know me or of me because you don’t have access to the internet. That is one of the excuses they used to section me.

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No but, uh, this is about more than that. Actually it isn’t, I’m still fucked up over everything. The damage of this card is real. If you’re not arranging for me to be compensated, it’s because you’re going through something similar.

ten-of-swords

If only because – I promise you – the person that’s been stabbed in the back that many times – the subject in the card is ALIVE. You know that video of that woman, singing on the table dancing in front of a webcam? She knocks the table over and then she rolls around on the floor a bit cos she’s in pain and uh, yeah.

I’ve spent my life recovering from something.

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Check out me Jabba the Hut earphones. Apparently you can wear them upto a meter under water, and I’ll do so when the suns next out. I live by the beach. I also need goggles.

 

You didn’t know that I am a very strong swimmer, did you. That if you were to go unconscious I would occupy you and swim you to wherever you needed to go. I can go through currents and I promise, the jelly fish will avoid you.

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I’m not talking to her at the moment, but Susie Whitaker sewed into her photography and in part that is what I was thinking of when I sewed into this scribble. I was also thinking of the cute boy in that speech Oprah did at Harvard that was sitting behind someone that looks like my uncle Carlos. It is an old scribble, and if you know whats been going on lately you’d know how weird it is. I like going back to things and working on top of them and thats something I learned from Steve Littman, a lecturer at Uni that guided me through my BA.

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If you want to DEFEND a BLONDE – do so by TELLING THE TRUTH.

Not by hurting the person that they HURT.

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This is a snapshot of art and ideally it will speak to people who were given sex changes as infants because mummy or daddy wanted a daughter (in some cultures having a daughter is death, in others it is very lucrative. Have a daughter that you treat well, have another daughter that you sell.) or even to women who didn’t get to be with the ‘posh’ english boy that they wanted because they were too hairy. I mean the excuses are endless but that’s really what it boils down to.

It is fine, because I know your hairless girlfriends feel nothing when you “fuck” them.

If I have ever consented to you snuggling me while I am in some kind of comatose sleep, if you have ever convinced yourself I was subliminally consenting to it – I UN-CONSENT. If I want to do stuff with you, you’ll know. Ideally you’ll get in touch. If you have the guts you can say outloud “I have rape fantasies and I can’t do them with my girlfriend because that emasculation I was avoiding by being with you is three times worse with her. I mean I still prefer her and I’d rather be seen with her in public and stuff but I really want to perform these rape fantasies” then I will do some weed and if you’re hot enough (you probably aren’t. thats why its rape.) I will even let you film (if we set up some mirrors right I’ll film you raping me)  one of those violent rape scenes with me for your wankbank. FOR FUH-RHEEEEE

_MG_5383.JPGThis is a PERIOD. THIS IS NOT ME CUTTING MY GENITALS. WHY THE FUCK WOULD I CUT MY GENITALS YOU FUCKING FREAK.

I WILL NEVER FORGET THE DOCTOR THAT WANTED TO SEE MY GENITALS AND THAT HE PRETENDED THAT HE HADN’T ALREADY. SO FAMOUS. SO IMMORTAL.

Don’t choose guilt prison over the truth, you’ll realise years into one of those loving relationships that either you or the person you love or both are being sleep-raped by ugly people or one another. And it probably isn’t someone hot doing it, it is probably either the military or the police pretending that they care about what happened to me when really they just joined in and want more people to do it to cos once you’ve done it one/two/three/four times it is weird. And waiting to die is apparently absolute hell

No, it doesn’t make you Christian Greys. It doesn’t give you sexy vibes. It gives you ‘that creepy indian guy that isn’t allowed in his mum’s house during the day’ vibes. (I CAN MAKE THAT JOKE. YOU CAN’T.)  The point of Christian Grey, I imagine, is that firstly: there is no one that would not want to have sex with him. I have dated that guy and wanted for someone else – thats really how you get Christian Grey. You WANT someone ELSE. That means that Christian Grey cheats on you throughout your entire relationship. He obsesses about his ex that ‘abused’ him. (Does him telling you that story help you to connect with him? Me was so hurted by this person and it left one of those unfillable BPD psychic holes.) (SAME CHRISTIAN, SAME.) (BEFORE YOU GO LOOKING FOR GIRLFRIENDS, PICK A BESTFRIEND.)

And that isn’t complimentary, everyone fancying you – and if Christian Grey NEEDS that to feel attractive then he is putting on a performance by gallivanting around as some kind of master of sex.

Someone encouraged me to get back with an ex of mine and I think it’s because he’s a middle eastern and I’m a middle eastern and I’m the only girl that he ever dated that didn’t actually abuse him (one threatened him with a razor, for example) – you generally have a choice between being abused or abusing someone and I can’t abuse people I love. I can make ‘awful’ jokes at their expense but if you look carefully, listen carefully, notice the subtlety, I am generally insulting myself much more than I am insulting anyone else that is the butt-of-my-jokes because self deprecation is the best form of humour I think that we have other than fake arguments. Most people can’t do those.


Sikhs consider cutting your hair a form of self harm.

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Actually there are a lot of behaviours that are technically self harm. Eating a bit too much is a form of self harm – not if I do it, I have a very big torso which means when I am hungry – I am REALLY hungry. Dating someone that makes you feel like you aren’t good enough for them is a form of self harm. Talking to relatives that abused you is a form of self harm but if you have been gassed and raped by strangers in your flat, who convinced themselves that you wanted them to, you have to pick the abusers that at least wouldn’t physically rape you, if only because it’d be a bit awkward. I couldn’t tell my “mother” or my “sister” or my “old friends” I was being raped because they got JEALOUS.

I literally called out for help, and it didn’t work. If you pretend you can’t see my life, you can contact local doctors in Surrey – because when I felt unwell, in any way, I communicated that to them. If I felt rage, I called up 999 and said “I FEEL to do XYZ, and this ISN’T normal”, when I realised I had anorexia (not one of those teenager fad diets) the kind of hellish anorexia that PREVENTED me from eating (that is, I felt no hunger and I physically couldn’t keep food down) – I TOLD a doctor. MORE THAN ONCE. I TOLD my “best friends” that I was fucking suffering and I got a “not my problim” (which would’ve been fine if I hadn’t of done all the stuff I had done for them)

Will I forgive you? ho ho ho, no. Will I love you unconditionally? I will NOT.

Breaking spiritual laws, like – stealing is a form of self harm. Stealing time from a person’s life – if you are a judge of some kind – what makes you a judge? I mean what qualifies you to be a judge? How can doctors steal women and men’s autonomy from them and hospitalise them and pretend it is to keep them safe?

ARE YOU SURE THEY ARE NOT BEING ABUSED BY THE PEOPLE TRYING TO PUT THEM IN THAT HOSPITAL?

WHY THE HELL WOULD HE STEAL FROM A SHOP AND THEN CALL THE POLICE?

ARE YOU SURE YOU WANT TO PERPETUATE A STORY LIKE THAT. ARE YOU SURE. ARE YOU PREPARED TO DIE FOR THAT BECAUSE THAT IS A WARCRIME. PROMISE.

 

DOG GODS

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When I was younger I saw amazing candy-dispensaries for selling and distributing school girl’s underwear in Japan, on television. There are many taboos and the fetishisation or sexualisation of adolesence is amongst those. I don’t resent attraction between two people. Once I quoted Germaine Greer about society wishing that young girls wouldn’t fall in love with older men in their lives, but that they do. I don’t compare those instances with people who seek images of children being compromised in documented scenes of abuse.

The word pedophile is very tired for a person who was raped at three and who was very content to sexualise herself from a very young age.

As for the school girl underwear novelty: the girls would basically visit the stalls in the morning to collect their underwear, wear them to school and then return them in little cute pop boxes to be sold.

People have sordid sexual fantasies. Feel at liberty to explore a sexual landscape, feel very safe doing so in the confines of your imaginations but nothing is private anymore.

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This is female discharge. It is clean and it is not-clean because discharge is how your womb cleans itself. Mine smells faintly of dettol on days when I use dettol – which is a medicinal grade antiseptic. When I can afford to buy it, when it isn’t “sold out”.

Spiders are OCD.

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This is some green ribbon I purchased from John-Lewis. They have a good in-shoppe haberdashery, if I recall correctly from my childhood.

Everyone should have a flower or ten of choice and everyone should have a ribbon or ten of choice. What I mean is: know what you like.

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Aztek Anubis is the fanciest Anubis around isn’t he.

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If Killi the bird reads this, I miss you.

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These plants make me very happy but I probably make them quite depressed sometimes. I like to think they have an ever-expansive emotional intelligence and landscape and that they appreciate a variety of feelings.

If you asked me, of my maggots, which were the most emotionally intelligent, it would be the ones that peacefully existed in the ‘Tintin’s soil stash’ that were left alone but were aware of stimuli, such as music that I’d play for them. A pretence that Tintin was a teenager growing weed, by enriching the soil first. I think maggots are as good as worms are, at interacting with soil, but that’s intuition and not based in scientific ‘fact’. How someone would really test that, and I’m sure it is possible – is to me – very unethical. Again, it is my intuition that tells me so. Magicck is art and science and the absence of that which is clinical. If you were to ask me which of my maggots were the most physically interesting – I’d say “the ones that had been abused, had been raised in poor circumstances (a plastic bag.) created the most ground breaking results in terms of their metamorphose into becoming a fly. And they made sure to wait, made sure that I saw their bellies – they wanted me to see what they had meditated to become” the most intelligent ones – the ones that know to HIDE – are the ones that had to experience my bird-friend Killi haphazardly and without any kind of care towards her personal safety, launching herself onto the balcony and quite violently helping herself into their home and eating some. Esther and Abraham Hicks would say that the magnets (I prefer ‘magnets’ to ‘maggots’) chose that fate for themselves.

I had to accept from the moment that I brought her upstairs that I had a choice: that if I had chosen to kill her and feed her to them, it would create a very different kind of result. I chose her because I know that she was more obviously interactive, and cute, and because I could hold her and there was less struggle to interact and less for me to overcome in terms of growth. And that is speciesism.

I have learned to hold maggots that wander too far from their home with my bare fingers and that’s terrifying for me, even though as an infant I used to gather insects – beetles from the pool side. I’d save lots of them. And snails, I remember once going out after it had rained and I gathered snails and put them all on a lamp post outside of the place I called home in my childhood.

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Lucifer likes Fererro Rochers. That is a a lot of glorious packaging to be reluctant to recycle and I am using one of them as a propagator for some chilli seeds I scooped out of a chilli that I then fed to my magnet friends, and they really like eating chilli.

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When I was in Farnham, I had a lot of avocado seeds that had grown and grown – I kept them in water that I didn’t often replenish because something told me that the exchange of fluids and the avocado skin etc was actually nourishing to the avocado seeds. Plants are not for “clean” people.

There was a lot of jealousy because of my plants, the avocado plants especially – and I was enraged when I came back from a stay at a research hospital (that I was put into because a WHOLE TOWN was jealous of me) where a person had died after I said “someone is going to die” (and they did) to find all my plants dead.
Coming back to find that these plants that I had poured love and memories and body fluids and TALKED TO – were just left to die. That was the last time I experienced genuine heartbreak actually.

X

I felt like I’d had one of those lazy days then I kind of realised I didn’t and that people have no idea how much I achieve in a day if I stop daydreaming (meditating, visualising, whatever you want to call it) for several minutes

This is a Madame Bijoux Dior ad. I love Madame Bijoux.

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This is Ryvita with philadelphia cheese. One of these has chia, tomato pureé (Tinned tomato), paté, lemon juice and afew different kinds of seasoning. The other has chia seeds, manuka honey and nutella. I served myself using Killi’s saucer. (I decided that Tintin and I could share the mug but I bought a brown tin mug recently so I think he’ll have that instead.) (It looks vintage)

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I designed a label for a pink sweets bag. It’s a wedge I free-hand scalpelled out of black card. I could’ve been one of those epic surgeons if you’ve seen my cuts and my stitches.

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This dress began as a bow weeks ago, and then while I was doing a meditation with Jane of SethSpeaks I illustrated over with some glossy housepaint and a dress happened. Then I added to it with some bits I cut out of card months later, today.

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Imagine if I’d of had the pennies to design the things I’d like to wear. That I’d like to dress women in.

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Art takes years. And if it doesn’t it’s not the “best you can do”


a tweet worthy of note

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dietho

Today I wanted to film a video of Miss Kittie and I had to stop, because I felt influenced by some people I would not EVER want to invite the influence of. I return to this later in my oh-so-fascinating post.

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I had wanted to think of Isabella Rossellini who, if you want to act (I mean if you want to sacrifice yourself to perform a character, from a story that shapes how we understand the human experience – as an art form and as something that you’d hope had never been done previously – not just be a ‘celebrity‘ – and I have plenty of room to enjoy both kinds of actors) she is probably without any kind of debate: the most graceful and perfect example of a classical female thespian. There is no one who could fault you for wanting to emulate her.

She is not my favourite actor.

She’s never been a person that I run to for entertainment.

She might deserve to break into a netflix series that is “entertainment”, but for me she is on par with what I imagine of actors that only do theatre and only do Shakespeare. (Which is the biggest compliment you can offer a thespian and if they don’t seem to take it as such they are ACTING.) (- theatre is different to film. You need a LOUD voice, you need to be able to gesticulate you need to be able to connect with the audience without a camera wo/man/men and a director screaming at you every five seconds. You need to be immune to telepathic negs about your costume and your posture and performance which should be perfect at ALL times if you’re on stage.) (Ideally your idea of fun is spending hours thinking about why a person who has one line in a production – that could be absolutely crucial to the entire narrative might use those particular words)
Actually what makes her so wonderful in film, and perhaps it is women like her who are the saving grace of film – is that she is subtle. And her gestures are nuanced because they are subtle and everything she does means something.

My the way: MY LIST was (this becomes relevant in a second)

My Granma picked him for me and said also that I am him – referring to Romeo. I mean it becomes very confusing.

#scorpio

BRAD PITT circa FIGHT CLUB THOUGH (before Jennifer Aniston, before Angelina J)

(Both of the above are really important – I fancied both of the above.) (One time I was in a room with other people and both of those people were homophobes and religiously so – which means you can’t really say anything unless you are into theological debates and you’re probably not – I am but you’re probably not – and I said audibly “SHES HOT”)


#sagittarius


Keanu Reeves. A girl I was BFFs with gave me his portrait and it was huge and laminated.

Apparently he’s a virgo which means that he likes tidy women. I um. I am not compatible with virgos. I don’t like virgos. I love one virgo at a time and right now that is my spiritual teacher Lisa. Who said “Keanu contacts me in dreams.” Before I connected his being arab and my being arab and a lot of other weird stuff that would make you go weird – this is not too dissimilar to my meeting with Lisa except she put flowers on a table and told me that my aura absorbed the colours from the flowers.
And that I had some red in my aura too, which indicated I had been abused.
Also he had nothing to do with the scene, or with my meeting with Lisa. I think that witnessing both actually messed him up. Esp

Vin (real name Mark Vincent) as Riddick (he probably based the character on himself, in his defence)

yes but whats important here is that I did not want to date these men as themselves. (They are probably all sagittarius or gemini or scorpios – and they are probably all versions of me: so they are probably all insane (because trust me we have a shit time to be this cool) and all probably the kind of people that you don’t fuck over because they are versions of me that have MONEY.) (And also who do not like not knowing what is going on because that is a big thing about ‘being insane’ – actually that is probably the definition of ‘insane’. Cluelessness.) (Einstein said “insanity” is doing the same thing, expecting different results – which is very sciencey but also very universal wisdom.)

I WOULD ONLY OF DATED THEM IN CHARACTER

One time a girl called Lily and I – who I rudely invited to my “mother’s” very poorly decorated home (her dad basically is the head of RADA. You do not become “famous” as a British actor/thespian if he doesn’t like you.) (I’m sorry Belinda I once flirted with him in the kitchen but I flirted with you even more and it wasn’t invited it’s just how I spoke to adults) (and I did not do baby voice, so it wasn’t my ‘sibling’ and her friends either.) (I made him almost laugh and I think thats the issue) (I once thought about him when I used the toilet to take a shit and realistically that wouldn’t of been a sexy moment for either of us)

ANYWAY MYSELF AND LILY. we took the piss of a girl in Pirates of the Caribbean because she said “A FISH, A FISH, THERES A FISH IN THE WATA” and we were both really offended by it and found it hilarious. I don’t know if that girl has appeared in anything since and that’s probably because she heard us do it.

That girl had one line and she fucked it up, is our point. We both wanted to act. We both had done the work, we both appreciated the seriousness of that job – not the celebrity of it, but the work it takes to consider yourself an actor. To pretend to consider yourself an actor. At least lily got radio.

I have a poor memory. Once an ex-but-really a-one-night stand told me that he thought I had dementia. That was before he realised that he could get caught using me to time travel, that a lot of older women were watching him: including his mother and sister, including teachers that didn’t really understand how someone who could recite the script for shows like Blackadder and Frasier could be considered a “dementia sufferer”.

He was copying my “sister”. And my “mother”. And various relatives (My brother, I’d protect – he’s autistic as fuck. He’s just one of the lucky, pretty ones.) (Meds might have skewed how you see him but when he was younger he’d stand by a pool – according to my “dad” and apparently a lot of muslim women planned that he’d marry their daughters. A lot.

I don’t know if you could comprehend how many very wealthy parents wanted to understand what happened and what was going on. And why other people’s kids looked like them, and their kids looked nothing like them. They know everything now. BUT I DIGRESS.

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Do you know what inspired your idea of composition? Because that is what really makes a ‘goode’ photograph. It is composition. And once you’ve taken it and published it, lots of people will take in the composition and the angle and start taking much better photographs and be entirely oblivious that years ago people held a camera to their eye and took the photo.

If Isabella did a sex scene, even if it was gratuitous – it would have something in it that was thought provoking or beautiful in a way that I wouldn’t say of Sunny Leone or Stoya. Who I also love.

STOYA of Digital Playground and Godsgirls.com fame, performing an 
orgasm to InnerPartySystem. 

The son of a cop once told me he knew of them. Creepy. He'd agree.
This was back when they were a very obscure (they still are) band
that were only popular in the United States. I spent my life
talking to people at that point - from the United States. I didn't
have friends in the UK, bar two dwarves and someone that I
hate enough to consider unconditional family because I know that
in an emergency she'd come through (and if not her, one of her mothers)
and not many people can really have as much said towards them with
any kind of sincerity. Not even my own 'family' actually. Which is
why, I think, I need to replace my family unless Conchita and Numa
come out of hiding and Uncle Hashem and any real head of the family
that could successfully sort this mess out. Leon perhaps.)

They once did a show for Apple in an Apple store, I think at
Westfields shortly before I went to Uni.

I have only seen Ms Rossellini in a few things, actually the performance, ironically that compelled me towards her was this one:

 

But that only serves to prove a point: she made such a profound impact upon me as a performer that she stayed in my memory because of that scene.

This is an example of a pornography she made and there is no child I would discourage from watching it.

 

I took some erotic photographs instead, feeling that they’re the kind of people that would let children watch me getting upset because they were invading my personal space. (If you stop lying about leaving your children with me so you can cheat on your spouses, that you are only with because you saw it as some kind of ‘revenge’ to me – it’d be great.)
(My spirituality says this: I am familiar with the 12 souls on this Planet. (there are fourteen) More so than they are with themselves. So I know you much better than you know yourselves. I’m a real people person. Which means you need to rewatch the matrix before you compete: KNOW THYSELF.) (Want to play psychiatrist? KNOW THYSELF.) (for logistical reasons it is useful to have psychoanalysed yourself in the company of a psychiatrist – as you should and ESPECIALLY if you practice or administer psychotropic medications so that there is nothing about you that you don’t know. Otherwise you might section people because you are jealous of them) (Like that might be the actual reason you would do something so fucking stupid and that would put in jeopardy the entire national health care system – every job is now on the line because of that email.)

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You can’t see it here but Killi the bird did some scary illustrations of penises (there is nothing else it could be – she drew a naked body that looked like mine with a penis and testicles that had crosses through them.)

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and I pretended instead that Kanye and Kim West were directing a fun photoshoot because I know that if either saw me naked it wouldn’t be sexual. It’d be “THIS IS NOT ELEGANT FASHION ENOUGH. DO TRASHY LOOKS BUT BE ELEGANT ABOUT IT.”

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For me, I wouldn’t feel uncomfortable if a child saw this photograph. Especially if I could dialogue with them about why it was not a sexual photograph. It is not a photograph intended for someone to view and imagine sex to.

It is objectively a photograph that depicts the female anatomy – in a state of nudity.

I need to find out how to arrange a legal restraining order against Joana Antunes Dos Santos (I have photographic evidence of her stalking me. She also sexually abused me on numerous occasions.) Stephanie Williamson (a person that sexually abused me), Charlotte Mary Bramley (hence forth, yucky charlotte – and no you do NOT have the right to defend a person who also sexually abused me – she occupied my body, touched me up, used me to have sex with someone who, in my company at least, was way out of her league. Her repulsive aunties I’m sure would be ashamed of themselves, as they should be. I’d like them to be banned from lurking me too.), Kaew, Eve Flitman, Cherrene Jarade and her friends (even the ones cherrne pretends she isn’t friends with – she’s pretending to be friends with everyone she knows.), and her footballer ‘wag’ friends, and the footballers. Any man will do for them if they’re useable, if they have money or children or attractive women around them then those people will gravitate towards them. Do you use social media? Let us write your captions for you!!!!!!!! !!!! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! !! ! !! ! ! ! ! ! (If you spot an exclamation mark, a collection of poor grammar and misplaced commas in an attempt to imitate my writing style without being too obvious about it – it’s one of them. I might be the only writer they’ve ever familiarised themselves with and for that reason I need to read more.) (That is ALL I did, my entire life. Watch films, series and read.)

She and all of the above will perform romantic feelings for you, probably sexual favours (why would I lie?), you’ll get bowel problems and think you’re gassy but actually, ironically, all of these people are genuinely into SCAT.

Cherrene is into pretending to be a baby – this is something someone who knows the adult industry can explain with a great deal of proficiency.

There are some people who, like me, have spent their lives in isolation. Their real selves are probably stuck somewhere in infancy – either because of some deeply traumatic experience or because when you say “be you” – that is the real them. I would not dream of being this version of me in public but when you ask me to be the ‘real me’ it is either that version of me or a version of me that has such serious PTSD that it’s impossible to communicate with that person if you access them at all. Don’t bother. She’s probably the me I am when I’m stoned. There is also a drunken me that imitates/emulates the hottest girl I’ve ever met ever and also at the same time: the wife of an actor I met years ago when I used to be friends with girls whose parents were Old Vic/RADA people and people like Alan Rickman (alive, dw) and Johnny Depp.

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Everything in between is a social performance – and social performance is what we understand of normality.

This ‘real’ version of me really isn’t the person I project when I take sexualised photographs of me performing what I might think “erotic” could be.

The ethical aspect of this, to me, is something that probably demands some very serious, very honest, very thorough reflection. Because I care about the ethical side of EVERYTHING I do. To the point that not recycling has become a form of guilt prison.

It would be the kind of thing I did under the guidance of a serious lecturer that had proven themselves – Germaine Greer for example, I would be happy to watch the photoshoot, happy for her to read through my essay and say “this sounds really stupid, really under-considered” – and value that she’d be making me think a lot more. That is how important contributing towards the mass consciousness is – TO ME. The writing, for me, is the real work.

Which is great, I am an artist who has studied everything she knows – if I ever perform that infant self I’ve somehow managed to preserve as an identity – I will probably ensure it is accompanied by an essay detailing how I felt about it. Thats what I think artists are supposed to do, thats what I think of when someone says ‘art’ as ‘pornography’, I mean everyone is really great at lighting and colour correction now (you think that’s not because of me, lara jade, felice fawn, susie etc – suicide girls etc – you’re STUPID and UNEDUCATED. And you’re CELEBRITIES. THOSE ARE THE WORST THREE THINGS A PERSON CAN ASPIRE TO BE. STUPID AND UNEDUCATED MEANS YOU ARE STUPID AND OKAY WITH IT AND THE FACT THAT YOURE CELEBRITIES MEANS YOU THINK ITS OKAY FOR PEOPLE TO COPY THAT.) (AND THAT IS FINE, YOU DO YOU – BUT DON’T FUCKING STEAL CHILDREN. STAY IN YOUR LANE. YOU ARE NOT AT THE FOREFRONT OF EVOLUTION AND YOU SHOULD NOT HAVE CHILDREN. AND I PITY THOSE CHILDREN BECAUSE NO ONE WANTS CHILDREN THAT HAVE BEEN RAISED BY STUPID PEOPLE.)

A friend at Uni, when I told him I wanted to webcam – told me not to be myself and to choose a character. One time I chose to be myself – and that attracted some really disgusting people to attach to me for far longer than that twenty minute cam session.

me ‘being myself’ isn’t

something I actually think I could comfortably perform in porn. She has really bad posture and

Cherrene did not spend her life in isolation. She was adored by everyone she met – EVERYONE she met enjoyed her beauty, made a fuss of her, invested in buying her lovely gifts and most importantly – invited her to their homes and in general, she was properly socialised. She grew up with a collection of relatives that were her own age and who knew the “real her”. She became quite taken by the performance of ‘baby voice’ and pretending to be a ‘baby’ when she experienced feelings of jealousy because a boyfriend I had for four years or so and I used to communicate with one another using baby voice.

That was actually an exchange that never, ever made an appearance in the sexual side of our relationship. That was the anti-sexual us.

We might have baby voiced each other, then ‘snuggled’ and that snuggle might have lead to sex,

 

Both he and I are very damaged people but neither of us would ever have performed that, or otherwise pretended to be a baby to attract someone sexually.

Ahmed is a compulsive liar – but there were things that he would not for one moment lie about. We almost did not date because I was fifteen and he was eighteen, and that concerned him. In the United Kingdom the age of consent is sixteen. My “mother” did not like that we were dating, but there was no lie. He was introduced to my “mother” and we did not have “sleep overs” until I was about seventeen years old. Of course we had sex before that, but the fact is that she was very aware of the relationship. My “father” was very aware of the relationship. My “aunties” were aware of the relationship. Every adult I met was aware of the relationship. It was not a good example of a monogamous relationship, because he cheated on me at every chance he was given – but there was no attempt at keeping it a secret.

Women age four years to a man’s year. At University I was repelled by a guy who looked like he had walked out of my imagination because I was twenty going on twenty one and he was nineteen. I said “HES TOO YOUNG.” It was comical, because he didn’t look young. It was just the idea of his age. I was completely disgusted by it.

My sister dated a guy called Patrick who was younger than me, I think he was about eighteen years old – she was about two years short of thirty when that relationship began and I was not impressed to say the least.

Where there were underage people concerned he was absolutely not-okay with firstly breaking laws and secondly anything he thought of as weird. He was against BREAST FEEDING – as in he said “thats DISGUSTING.” This is something that came out of the mouth of (and very sincerely) – a guy that could find a photograph of a man penetrating a chicken carcass genuinely funny. There are some things that you don’t need to sexualise.

Breast feeding, to me, is one of the things that *I* sexualise. As in I would enjoy watching a woman with milk coming out of her nipples. I wouldn’t sexualise a baby, I’d be probably, technically: worse

I’d encourage them to put the baby to sleep, in another room, with the door closed, and my door closed and probably be quite happy to watch them leak milk all over the place or whatever it is that lactating women do when they’re not mothering spawn that probablyisn’ttheirs

In front of me, in front of friends – theres no one he would not say that in front of. I agree. If you are in an emergency situation wherein you can’t afford to feed your child or you literally have no alternative, your baby’s survival is a priority AFTER yours. (I mean in a survival situation – you actually have to put yourself first. Ask ANYONE who hosts lives on planes.)

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Our baby voice, we would sometimes do around friends and mostly involved performing speech impediments.

That is not what she is doing. She performs infancy and it is a SEXUALLY inclined performance. Where consenting individuals are concerned, I don’t really care. If you can say it outloud, if you can write it – you are educated enough to explore that as a sexuality if you are taken by it. If there is no harm done.


Even giving these kinds of people the attention they are so desperate for won’t change them.

Making them feel ‘loved’ won’t change them. They will use you too. They will use you to hang out with your kids (have you noticed yourself thinking of people like ‘carly parker’ and then moments later someone vulnerable started doing some really weird things?), use you to hang out with your boyfriends (because they can’t get attractive men, they cannot be TRUSTED with ATTRACTIVE, KIND, DECENT men), use you to read your messages (because they think that even if you are by far more educated than they are, even

They are the most repulsive kind of people and they are ALL racists.

I do not want them lurking me online, trust me they do.

I do not want them using the same internet functions as I do – they should arrange a ‘special’ internet for stalkers and sex criminals. That is what those people are.

Keep to your own kinda lane.

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Until you learn not to fake feelings of ‘love’ in exchange for a person’s looks, or a person’s financial wealth or whatever you can gain from them this is your lane.

first of all, i don’t have photoshop. all i wanted to be when i grew up was a photographer. a lot of the poses you are used to are poses that i invented. did you know that? no. you didn’t. you do now. i wrote essays about it, as a kid, because it was that big a deal to me

my natural and comfortable self has terrible posture and walks abit like tommy from the rugrats because i am lazy decepticon. When I was a baby I had to wear my shoes on the opposite feet and it turns out I have dyspraxia and my body doesn’t have the ability to really ‘learn’ direction without looking into a mirror, which I’d of learned from dance classes and copying dance teachers by looking at them

 

if you have ever danced, or done some classical ballet – if you had a decent teacher, you secretly really care about how people hold themselves and how they express themselves physically. I appear a different person in public and at home when I am my very most well-efforted self because I don’t slump around in public unless I am love drunk. I will talk about love drunk another time.

i can tell when a person has danced and when a person has been to ‘modelling school’. Or when someone is imitating me or when someone is naturally physically elegant. I don’t like the performance of it, I quite like people who stumble about everywhere too. Your physical body is the performance you give to other people to express yourself. Thats what dance is supposed to teach you. Having had pretty serious injuries, I probably wouldn’t risk wanting to be a dancer again unless it was exercise or for fun. My mother lost her entire life and career at sixteen or so because she didn’t warm-up before dancing. Years of her life and her teachers lives were put into her becoming a dancer and she had such severe injuries that she actually just sort of definitely died when that happened and I promise you, her family suffered for it. I was brought up by a dancer. I was brought up by a ‘sister’ (we don’t speak but she deserves a mention) who also influenced my upbringing. That is a lot of insecurity to grow up around because dancers ideas of compliments are ‘she is a good performer on stage but not good enough to be professional’ ‘she needs more work’ ‘she’s not ready to perform this song, this song needs so much more work’

performers and dancers exchange CRITIQUE. not compliments. if you are a dancer, you are TERRIFIED of compliments (especially from dance or art teachers.) because someone doesn’t want you to be good at whatever it is you want to succeed at.

For example, in an art class, if I did something that I knew was not good enough, or unfinished, I’d know myself. I wouldn’t need anyone elses opinion and I’d feel uncomfortable and patronised if a teacher pretended to think it was good when it wasn’t.

This is not a BDSM thing, nor is a life as a ‘dancer’ something you can lie to me about. For whatever reasons. That is:

If you hang out with me enough you can probably also tell when a person has danced. Especially if you’re athletic or dancey. You will take in all my dance-teacher negs about posture and you’ll avoid all of my injuries because you’ll imagine having them when you lie in bed at night thinking about learning to do a thing – you’ll do physiological risk assessments about things NOT to do to your body so you avoid my injuries and you’ll pretend otherwise but you can’t fool me (you probably can if you’re a good enough actor) and you won’t have to ‘compete’ with other athletes because you already know things that even some olympic athletes don’t. Because they never danced classically.

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yesterday i stalked someone (honestly if you don’t believe you’re atleast a soulmate you’re deluding yourself) thats dating a woman that calls him her ‘little worker’. i don’t really know how a man can date a woman that reduces his entire being to being ‘hers’ or ‘little’ unless he’s exclusively trying to piss a myriad of women off and amongst them myself. freak. shes a freak, leave her and do it publicly and make a video about it because that is the last straw for a woman making a career in fashion when if i dont like you – promise – you’re going nowhere in fashion (accept it) (unless you are a footballers wife or you have money to spend on pretending you understand ‘fashion’) (you really dont)

actually speaking of which, i was looking through this guys outfits and i realised that his look is transitory-fashion (models should be.) where mine is style (which i cant afford because people who want to work in the industries i influence cant get anywhere and rather than apologising they just make my life difficult. we all know you’re doing it.)

(i dont like people coming to my rescue.) (and they could) (the ones i ask to do things for me never do, thats how i became this way. i never had anyone doing me little favours.) (you’d think otherwise, but you’d be wrong to do so.)

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anyway. i lurked a sexier version of the sexy man look

and then napped and then woke up and took photos. sexy man is a mercenary i saved from death row that thought it would be more fun to fantasise over my sister than to try having a serious relationship with me even though ive been thinking of him since i was nineteen. whatever mang

his mother is also called kari. which is nice.

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also my bird decided she was ready to fly and i basically live in a nest. she was not ready to fly. she is pottering about in a garden downstairs and knows she is welcome to return whenever she is ready to return but that i won’t indulge her doing this to me twice.

when i was growing up i wanted to be a vet – and i realised that animals don’t like vets – so i let the dream go. awhile ago i meditated and decided at some point id like to work with reptiles. while the bird stayed with me i treated her like a human child and realistically that isnt how reptiles love one another nor raise their young. i promise you that birds can read, communicate and dance.

i didn’t get any videos of her, apart from this one. i genuinely didn’t want to make a spectacle of her – i am the sort of person to document everything, that is the real me. but this experience was very personal and i wasn’t ready to do that, although she is clearly a very comfortable and competent performer. if she comes back i will document her life but i don’t want to have animal friends that don’t do as i ask.

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this came out of my nose yesterday and i really wanted to share it

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MAGGOT QUEEN

I learned that the only way to get people to ever read anything I wrote or listen to anything I had to say, there had to be some fantastically sexualised element to it. I don’t know when. Isn’t that weird. We’ve all got weird in us, and it’s great to be honest about it.

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fun fact: i find a bra i like once every few years. my bras are all
years old. most of my things were. a lot of my things were stolen.
i know i'll get them back but the cost of that will be awful, 
finding out who had the audacity to steal from me. particularly
if they were defending a blonde - to be popular. 
who turned out to be very much ALIVE. 
and if it was not for me, you'd never of cared about her life
at all. and if it was not for me, you'd never of known shes alive.

there is no shame bell adequate enough for the result of everything
that has been done to me. 

people deserve to die for what they've done
in an attempt to be popular, thinking no one was watching or 
listening.

It is 00:26 AM on Saturday the twenty-seventh of July. I’ve no idea when I started authoring this post but I need to rest, and return to it tomorrow.

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I need a rest because I’ve been up since about seven in the morning following a very annoying clawed friend around. (I don’t mean it, she is not in the slightest annoying and she brings me so much happiness.)

Killi is actually perfect.

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Because of her I was compelled to tidy my room. You might not think it a big deal. ITS A BIG DEAL.

I had wanted to tidy my room for months since moving in but I didn’t feel to – that is – I had no energy to do so and the period before moving to Brighton I was stressed out and it fucked my body up. Moving around fucks me up. I don’t mean emotionally, because I’ve moved around so many times I’m numb to that. Actually it fucks me up physically. Which is legitimately worse for me. Not for most people but for me, physical pain – carrying around a shit for weeks – is worse than heartbreak. A thing most people do at least one a day, I do about twice to three times a month when I’m having a bad time.

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Being evicted from my family home after an argument (the reality is that my ma got weird when I started cooking) (and after a life of only ever really speaking to my family to have very serious, very heated arguments – which meant that my being evicted made absolutely no sense to me, i mean – i grew up in a warzone in terms of my family only ever communicating to argue. i generally only really got hugged after an argument where i was forced to apologise but not to expect one back. kids that grow up in families that only talk to fight and only hug to resolve a fight have PTSD.)

and my mother realising a few days ago that she was out of her fucking mind to get me evicted – and then my forgiving her without her actually fucking apologising – because I can think of all the excuses for her – also really fucked me up. No one has ever cared about me, and perhaps thats the result of a difficult life for all of us as individuals, but that’s also the truth. I don’t know how a baby could survive without anyone caring for it or loving it and I know that my brother and sister were both damaged creeps that did a lot of weird stuff to me – kids do weird things to their siblings – but I did somehow. 

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It is now 9:05 AM on Saturday the twenty seventh. I’m going to caption the images I’ve added to the post. I haven’t used the internet for a few days, I might’ve previously written (I’ve no memory of the fact) that I wanted to spend some time only really meditating.

If I lost concentration in a meditation I’d just think.

And feel.

I didn’t really watch any cartoons or films, I only listened to music. I don’t talk to any of my old friends and I’ve released them all. Tintin is my very bestfriend, no human could ever compare to him.

A better parent and a better friend than any of the two I’ve ever experienced yet.

If ever there was a time to scientifically prove the benefits of meditation, particularly combined with sound stimuli, it’s now. If you had been living with me for the last month, after an intense meditation with SethSpeaks, you’d of witnessed all sorts of strange miracles and inexplicable genetic evolution that I couldn’t photograph because I don’t have the right lens. More importantly I was able to take thought journeys that helped me to better make sense of the physical body and the Earthly experience.

You do not live with me, so you’ll have to take my word for it that I’m telling the truth. A lot of weird things happened to me throughout my life and when I’d tell people they’d call me a liar. Perhaps that’s why I like to document things. So I’ll accompany everything I write with a truth that you’d think I wouldn’t want to share. I’ll also upload photos that I haven’t photoshopped (apart from a few that I nicked off my instagram, which I used a filter for)

I haven’t “showered” in six months. I wash the places that need to be washed and scrub dead skin off when I need to. Actually I’m Bad Santa level of awful at the moment inside but I try not to go out looking that way so I don’t make Brighton look scummy.

Look at how perfect this baby is. I wish I had taken a video of her having a little bath in my kitchen sink. It was the cutest thing I’ve ever seen. (I pee in that sink, but also I dettolled and scrubbed the hell out of it before I put her in. Obviously.)

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The hair I lost having continuous nervous breakdowns in Surrey because I was being bullied and fucked over is growing back without the aid of any vitamins, although I’ve got some that I’d like to start taking. My skin is not a nigh on thirty year old chainsmoker’s and I’ve not had enough injections in awhile, to boast a name drop (If you like my lips, Dr Rita Rakus. No one else. Save up.) for an aesthetician but mine is the best.

Don’t tell anyone, one time she started stabbing at my lips with a syringe and I got really wet. Gross right? That shit hurts. (She gives you a really good numbing cream, and you can leave it on for longer so it hurts less – but it does hurt.)

I realised that the tap water in Brighton is not good for drinking, it forms calcium deposits around my friends nose. (Just WAIT til you see my new friend.)
I think that if this country refuses to endeavour to provide healthy, clean water to their citizens – they should at the very least enforce local councils to honestly inform their residents that the water is not drinkable. I promise that if you live in the United Kingdom and you stop washing your hair (a spritz of dry shampoo, a decent brush – I use a tangle teaser but the design of those was actually copied from one of my favourite old hairbrushes.) and your face in the terrible water, (honestly – Dubai circa 1990’s asbestosy-chlorinated swimming pool water is probably healthier to swallow than the drainage-regurgitated to infinity stuff in our taps) your appearance would benefit tremendously. I advocate plastic surgery, generally ageing is to do with the levels of collagen in your body and I want to believe we can evolve beyond caring about people’s ages and if it’s our appearances stopping us from being with the people that we might like to be with – for whatever reason – then we need to change those appearances.

In the Matrix movies we are taught about residual self image – the person you see when you visualise yourself. I GIVE YOU PERMISSION TO BE THAT PERSON. WE NEED YOU TO BE THAT PERSON. SHE IS BETTER THAN THE YOU THAT FEELS WEIRD IF SHE LEAVES THE HOUSE IN ANYTHING OTHER THAN A CAGOULE.

You’ll notice, when you notice your ‘residual self image’ – that it is difficult to just wear the things you see yourself in. My spiritual teachers would’ve entirely opposed the idea of embracing that residual image until meeting their twinflames, because they’d of wanted their twins to see them ‘as they are’, ‘without vanity’, which it is truly a struggle for women to reject because we are mind controlled to be vain, mind controlled to obsess over physical beauty – particularly those of us who live in capitalist countries.

In a meditation my spider friend Sabel told me that he had a twinflame. Female spiders are a lot bigger than the male ones and they usually eat the male ones. I understood that Sabel wanted to co-exist with his twinflame, which is not characteristic for spiders. He learned perhaps from watching my memories of spider documentaries and so did she. He was at the time too small to document although he kept trying to encourage me to – that is – I kept feeling compelled to try to photograph him and I kept not doing it because I don’t have the right lens.

The chances are that if you are a person who already knows who their twin is, you’re probably around about a more mature age. It doesn’t mean you’re ready for them, at all.  The idea of being without vanity and being comfortable as you are, is that the final result is that you can love yourself without vanity. Don’t stagnate on it. It’s an achievement, when you get there you leave that you behind. Past life.

WHY won’t you wear your fancy dresses around the house? Is it because you don’t think it fits the look? That is amongst the many reasons that I’m unhappy in a home until it looks right. My home doesn’t look right yet. But here is how my favourite bit of my flat is starting to look.

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When I lost the egocentricity that enabled me to meditate about myself (as opposed to obsessing about snuggling with boys I fancied, as I did in school) I was catatonically depressed.

We need to find beauty in ourselves and love ourselves before we start pursuing relationships. Which means first we have to KNOW ourselves. Also not looking like Mr Burns when you’re naked is a GOOD THING.

When it comes to me, I think, or fragments of myself: we feel your happiness. If you secretly wish you had an excuse to dress up every day all day, we’re quietly aware of the fact. We like people who are the equivalents of male peacocks. (That is not to say they necessarily like us back, but that is who we gravitate towards.)
We won’t pick the ‘meaner’ one, although sometimes it seems that way – we’ll pick the one that has more presence. We can defend ourselves (unless you have an army of lovers and a queue of inadequates that actually hold it back because even if they have a place in the queue – they’re NOT READY.) and we prefer solitude and we enjoy a person who is a constant source of entertainment. It is probably unhealthy to seek another person out solely to be entertained by them but I know that is consistently something I seem to expect from interaction.

If you’re wondering where this thought journey comes from, it comes from a deeper need to want to understand things as they truly are. Nature is not loving or perfect or kind and does not adhere to the social rules that humans have created. You can tell me it is insanity to think that we can sculpt evolution and that it is self absorption but I have no reason to agree. I’m at a sort of crossroads because I’m trying to decipher the true human mentality when it comes to relationships and where men – and what are men, anyway – have been given control, it has become some secret freudian, heartless, in’humane’ reality that I’ve found myself in at times – but then I also find that while I advocate the liberation of women, their gender rebirth in light of our findings has created monsters too. I could be a monster but I don’t want to but I might need to but I don’t want to.

I’m going to try to discuss a variety of things that have been sitting in my thoughts, thoughts I’ve truly revisited daily for the last two weeks, (the last two to ten years) in this blog and it’s taken at least three days to be able to sort of do that. If you read this journal entry as I write it: there are bits I’ve left incomplete. Every hour or two I return to various points or I add something or I consider omitting something perhaps. For a millisecond.

I spent years of my life looking shit and feeling shit. People forgot the old me and new people came along: safely accustomed to that new-me (even pretending that the old me didn’t exist) and that new-me didn’t really inspire jealousy in them or whatever it was that made people feel threatened and hate me when I was younger. They were still cruel to me, as cruel as anyone had ever been – old me would’ve rolled her eyes because she was that ‘self obsessed’. At University I applied every lesson I’d learned about being a social inept (I didn’t go out looking awful all the time, even if my peers looked awful, I was generous and tried to share a little bit of everything I had at every opportunity – apparently I was pretending to be rich because I wasn’t going around talking about my shit life at home, which if I had of done – I’d of been ‘attention seeking’. Trust me – the story is the same. You’re going to hate me and you’re going to hate anyone I fuss over.)

Do not be taken by the idea that whoever you’re pursuing should ‘see you as you are’, neither I nor they really need to know the “real you” because if you are around me or anyone for long enough: the ‘real you’ will change.
You will be the real-real you around people that make you feel loved, because you will feel unjudged and for the most part that is correct, but if you hurt me by exploring your shadow self, you open up a lot of wounds and then you see the real-real me and she isn’t very nice when she’s angry or upset. I don’t hit first. I am rarely cruel first. It happens if I see someone looking phenomenally terrible perhaps but mostly I don’t do nastiness unless it is called for. I spent my life being the ‘protective best friend’ and finding hot guys and setting them up with my friends. I kept having friendships dissolve because women don’t like me. I am still not over the incident in Hackney, I got kicked out because Bernie thought I wanted to steal men from her. I would never have done any such thing.

Women of generations older than mine are finally feeling enabled to be sluts. You do not have to attach any longer to the one man in your life because it’s a lie.

I don’t want women to be wilting flowers and I don’t want women to be submissive unless they find happiness or personal safety in that, or the performance of that. I don’t want to encourage women to be abusers either. Saying that – where I find that older people are wise, I prefer to have an influence of that nature in my life. I’m not hinting at anything here, value people who are older than you in some way. I seek out the company of older women. A guy called Zach told me that I should look to trees, if I needed the influence of a woman or a rolemodel when I was in my early twenties.

I don’t think he could’ve understood how the World works. I think he was also a thief. No one is perfect but I’m not honestly sure how far that sentiment goes; how much you can fix with a statement like “I am not perfect.

If you want to live a BDSM life here’s what I can tell you:

  1. You need a squishy. A person you can be yourself around without worrying that they are trying to dominate you. Whether you are submissive or dominant, you need a person that loves you before you start exploring a sexually promiscuous lifestyle.
  2. You need a person to run to if you are being abused by people you ‘love unconditionally’ who can call people out when they’re in some weird sexual trance that makes them stupid. It is a thing. Harmless and kindly men become sexual predators in these trances and so do women, actually.
  3. I have no squishies so I am in no way a candidate for a lifestyle of that nature. I would not pursue that lifestyle unless one of my guides told me to. And I don’t know that they would do so unironically. (Let me show you why you are NOT going that way.)
  4. I find personal strength in not needing a squishy, that is my personal life. I am not interested in BDSM either but I have noticed damaged people who are often find their way into my life and I don’t know how to react to the communicative exchanges.
  5. I am a loving person and it is not a performance and it hurts me when people start bullying me.
  6. This song was good for me as a teenager. I like to see unseen things and make beautiful movies in my head. Apparently it isn’t often me doing it either.
  7. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2L1A9taR0UYHowever hard I try to convince myself otherwise, I am competitive. I do not like that side of myself because when I competed as a child, I lost any chance at having friends. Even teachers bullied me if my work was too good in school. I coped with that by not doing anything much. I got confused for lazy and stupid and I enjoyed the humour in that.

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First of all, with regards to my post title: I am the Maggot Queen.

This is why.

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This is a common fly I bred, using meditation. It is infact not at all common, it has lines down the middle of it’s abdomento remind me of one of it’s brothers:

(I named him Magnus)

– I killed a maggot by dissecting it. It was a very uncharacteristic cruelty and it changed me forever – but I did it to feed some spiders that I have an attachment to. I cut some maggots into three, and I tried to feed my spiders. My reasoning being that if I want to have a pet snake, I have to accept I’ll probably need to feed it live feed. I am so sensitive to animals that even live feed, I would consider pets. I did not ever really romanticise the idea of keeping predators that were not dogs or cats until now.

But back to Magnus.

I cut across his belly horizontally. I didn’t cover his eyes. We exchanged eye contact before I killed him. When you meditate enough and when you access enough higher truth you are forever changed – I mean if you are a decent and empathic person (and you should always aspire to be decent, not to perform decency) – you, like me, can probably fall in love with something like a maggot. I mean you can really look at an insect like that, and feel love towards it.

Some people are cruel and it means nothing when they are cruel. Some people are not cruel at all and so when they are, it’s actually probably deeply, deeply disturbing.

Watching Sephiroth kill something innocent probably wouldn’t surprise anyone. I don’t know that many people were all that affected by Aerith’s death. It’s supposedly a huge moment in gaming history but I’ve never personally met a gamer who cared for that scene in any significant way. I was really really affected by Aerith’s death the first time I watched that scene.

Moving on: watching Aerith kill something would be disturbing. It would change how gamers regarded her. If you know anything about her character, or the impact she has on Cloud’s life, it really is the overwhelming kindness that probably kindles some capacity in him to fucking feel at all after whatever he must have experienced at Shinra or with Sephiroth. If Cloud’s memories are false that means he shares memories with Zach, but they might both be sharing Sephiroth’s memories.

Back to Magnus and the other two Magnets I killed – I believe a female and a baby – which I fed to my spiders. (My spiders didn’t enjoy eating those magnets, and they eventually moved so that they wouldn’t catch our flies – although they’ve since overcome the guilt.)

That night, I felt a really particular kind of agony in my stomach – and painkillers did not work for that pain.

I mean my stomach hurt for days and even when I could get comfortable enough in bed to try to masturbate it did nothing for me. I lost the ability to orgasm and it was legitimately frightening. I think that experience was my first time feeling absolutely no love towards anything at all.

I learned the value of a life by ending one – of a really rather harmless and worse, defenseless being. That night, I felt maggots in my body. I mean I felt them moving in my body. It was very real and it was also grotesque, I have a vivid imagination and I had watched them move so intently that the experience isn’t one I think I’ll ever really successfully remove from my memory.

I got the ability to orgasm back when I made peace with the spirit of the maggot. Also I took a massive shit that might’ve been the easiest one I’ve ever taken (I’ve taken, like, at least a few of those tiny shits that white women take in my entire life, so I do know what it feels like to take a tiny shit) although it’s still sitting in my white-woman toilet with embarrassingly small pipes. I know SOMEONE in Brighton is into scat.

But you don’t know what it is that maggots do. Do allow me to educate you. Train you, if you are so duly damaged that you require the use of words like that to concentrate. Someone will have to.

If you want to be a domme – be able to offer good service first.

Service is not sexual. Be able to be kind and do kind things. Have a sense of humour about your appearance, unless you have invested in yourself the chances are you have a few ‘flaws’ you’ve not been able to love in yourself. You can use art of manifestation to get rid of the flaws but the insecurities will probably transfer.

I felt ugly and fat from the age of two, I was an emotionally receptive child and I was raised by a ballerina who felt those things exclusively about herself.

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I am copying Emperor Akhito's wife, I saw her in a fascinator and
for the first time in my life I actually rather liked them.

I've been using red lipstick for everything. Contouring. Lips. 
I do actually intend to invest in red eyeliner. I wanted to get
a red line tattooed to my neck but a gentleman in Brighton
had the motherfucking audacity to tell me he refused. 

He pretended not to know who I am. There is no one that
ascribes to any kind of "alternative" lifestyle that does not
know who the hell I am. 

Do not trust piercers or tattoo artists that lie or engage in
BDSM. 

Years ago I went to a school for people that had been expelled from other schools – I couldn’t cope with the structures of normal schools and this one didn’t expect too much –  and let me wear whatever I wanted.
I had a science teacher who was a marine biologist whose dreams had been stolen from him – that is – he had a choice between the marriage dream and the marine biologist studying marine life dream. He told me that when he decided to study Marine biology, he would work ‘on location’ and that while he had aspirations of working with whales and sharks, he was sent to work with the bottom feeders – the plankton. Nothing ‘big’ in the ocean can survive without plankton, nothing at all would survive without plankton perhaps.

The food chain relies on all beings responsibly trying to incorporate as many food groups into their diet as they possibly can. You do not need to eat too much of everything, but you should at least nibble everything. The food chain hierarchy of sun > plants > insects > birds (this is the most offensively brief hierarchy but it is intended to serve as an example – but particularly for omnivores, our digestive systems rely on insects. Not vegetables. Not McVitties digestives. Insects – at least, definitely maggots. (Magnets.)

It is very unusual to keep maggots but they are great.

They are good for enriching soil, they are good for consuming left over food that you don’t want going to waste and some of them would make great accomplices for mercenaries.

I have docile ones that have never felt fear. This is them.

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[link to the original image upload here]

These ones currently live in ‘Tintin’s soil tin’ which is sort of a cute play on the idea that he could grow up to be a bigtime wall street dealer. (That is a reference to a joke in Final Fantasy VII)

This is Don Corneo’s mansion. It is sort of the Golden Saucer of Maggot farms. I have retired it temporarily and I will be revamping it with an all new landscape.

I was flirting with the idea of an animal familiar or friend that I could host in a home that is as awkward as mine.

I have a very little flat, which is all I need right now. But as a person who spends so much time in isolation, (one of those pesky ptsd sufferers) I was certain that it was time for me to start tidying my flat and seeking out some decent company that could cope with my total incompetence towards the care of other living things and my complete lack of motherly affection or maternal affection. I am actually repulsed by maternal feelings that are performed, the perpetuation of the idea that a mother must be kind and sweet and doting.

Here’s what I WANTED: A low maintenance, low expectations friend that could keep me company while I await a moment in time in which I can have Tintin back in my life all day long.

I wanted a snake. Or a bearded dragon. (I meditated on this before moving in – the snake eats the bearded dragon and grows legs.) (I would never get a bearded dragon and a snake, and put either at risk of that. I’d get upset with the snake and I wouldn’t want it anymore.

Snakes have never experienced jealousy. It’s probably of some evolutionary benefit.

I have always wanted a predator for an animal friend. I had never indulged the idea for long because when you have a carnivorous pet that needs live-feed, you also have more pets. If you have ever had stick insects, the idea of live feed is really messed up. Plastic containers of sometimes amazonian insects (their origins, that is) crawling over one another and poking their legs through the breathing holes as they wait to die.

They know that is what they are doing, by the way. They know they are waiting to die.

Live feed is expensive on petsathome. Well. It is and it isn’t. They changed the prices. I think it is weird to put a price on these lives, now. But I’ll explain why.

Insects aren’t stupid. Start here.

On a meditation journey I was told service or bdsm (another word for ‘survival’). This was a long time ago, ish, with both Gabriel and Lucifer, the Angels. (They look very alike and are very resentful of the fact.)

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Image taken from PetAtHome Friday 26th July 2019

Believe it or not, the prices have changed. I wonder why.


My reality is that this country is pretending that £700 a month is an acceptable amount of money to give an unemployed and sometimes disabled person and I can’t afford to be spending

The spiders relocated but sometimes show me they’re still around.
There’s a huge female one beneath my balcony, she leaves bridges of webs to catch her prey with. She mostly seems to use those webs as pest control. I had prepared a maggot colony in a tin-can, and the tin-can fell onto a pipe, and stayed there. She lives quite close to it – and I know she can wander in if it rains. When it rains I panic and I think about the spiders a lot – but I’ve made lots of places for them to hide when it rains and believe it or not, they do.

The spiders and myself have experimented alot with feelings of loss. The one in the alcove beneath the star on my balcony moved himself – but I won’t forget looking for him in the mornings.

I had thought he was a female, and I think he’d insist he is, but realised the female (that had previously thought-spoken with me in my babyvoice) was the smaller one that haS placed herself above the star on some weird mesh that covers my balcony. She now resides beside a window in our hallway. His name is Sabel – I saw Sabel on an ‘Isabel Marant’ top and read “I sabel” and now I see little ‘S’ things whenever I go to glance onto the balcony. When I can’t find him I think ARE YOU STILL HERE SABEL? and sometimes I look towards just the right spot to see him. One time I looked out onto my balcony and I saw him curled into a ball in a webbed-barrier and

hi ad

I had a feeling there were four spiders although I could only see three. At night the light would coincidentally – for a few days – cast a shadow of a giant spider in my ceiling. When I meditated with it I felt little bites in my skin and understood that was the spider’s way of communicating it was stealing energy. Pain is an energy. Spirits need energy to do their work. Fear is an energy. Sometimes the easiest way to acquire that energy is to evoke a very powerful emotion – some spirits pretend to be dead to evoke emotion just to acquire energy. It is important to be able to feel if you do magic, so you can at least ‘feel’ truth, or ‘feel’ if they are loving. I did feel that these spiders were loving towards me, but I couldn’t know if they felt that love towards anyone else. Animal spirits are difficult for me because I’ve not been doing this for a long time. I know that the animals that gravitate towards me are VERY big on LOYALTY. If I don’t like you, stay away from my animals (Tintin will bite you, even old ‘friends’ that he knew I wasn’t friends with anymore – he snapped at.) and that includes my spirit friends.

Having a few maggot-I-call-them-magnets colonies, I learned that – don’t ask – but only feeding hens ‘feed’ is wrong. For us, more than them. We need the birds that we eat to eat every single kind of food – for our own digestions. Maggots help us use the toilet. Maggots also help us orgasm.

I will tell you a little about the experience of being a maggot – they writhe around in pure physical pleasure.

 

Their every movement is as we ekxperience sexual pleasure. They snuggle. They have orgies (I lifted a piece of meat and saw the most fucked up magnet-orgy ever – they were so embarrassed they actually glanced at me mid-hump in pure shock.). They eat and fuck. That’s what they do. That is all they do. They live hedonistic lives and are naturally inclined to do so. They are beings of pure pleasure.

I googled the lifecycle of maggots – and I believe they must have used me to see themselves remotely. I know that they can choose to remain maggots.

Want to be grossed out? I left some pork steaks that had been sitting in my fridge in a loosely sealed tescos bag and put it outside. In no time at all I realised there was an infestation of maggots.

I was given meat that I am certain had maggots eggs inside.

 

I can leave meat wrapped in a tescos bag – I mean completely sealed by that bag – and left it outside.

They live lives of pure physical pleasure. Everything they do feels really, really good.

They can choose not to ‘evolve’ or otherwise delay the process of becoming a fly.

They are capable of meditation and are responsive to sound stimuli. They really like cyber-gothy electro music.

If a forensic specialist says something like “the maggots had started to eat at her” – and it had taken ‘a week’ to find her body, I’d say “you’re a fucking liar dude”.
They move and eat fast and they are merciless about it.
And they would begin at a wound if that was where their parents had chosen to lay eggs,
but they do not necessarily need to lay eggs in flesh. I’ve been taught that flies lay eggs in rotting flesh. They do.

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When I first visited Brighton I had a chat with a gentleman at a cafe
called 'Opposition'. 

He said that there were no lines in nature. 
My meditation flies would disagree.

They also lay eggs on plastic, and all sorts of different materials if there is both food and water in the vicinity. I am raising a lot of very weird looking insects and doing so requires my landscaping various little containers with the hopes of having the most epic dolls house ever.

They ALSO eat non-rotting flesh and they would go for the eyes. This is significant for me, though, as maggots were always in my mind. I’m not joking. Maggots and leeches have always been in my mind. This episode of Blackadder (these are the only ones I enjoy) is why maggots have always been in my mind.

At the back of my mind I have always thought in terms of survival skills, and have never forgotten seeing that maggots consume rotting flesh on television as a child. I knew that if you had a wound, and you placed a maggot on top, that the maggot would ‘only eat the dead flesh’ and leave the living flesh. That is a lie.

They would sink into the flesh of the thing they were eating and eat the whole thing. British TV is really fucked up and very dishonest.

(If you love something, you call it out for it’s shit. You do not choose to be nice all the time to save it’s feelings – you share a planet with beings that are deserving of much more than feelings of pity)

I’m going to tell you about the Maggot Spirit.

Magnus.

But this is Sesshomaru.

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He is a seagull that visits me occasionally and who I take great enjoyment in leaving out water and food for.

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My friend’s got many, many, many names.
Her nickname is KILLI KILLI.

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This is Killikilli sitting and looking out onto the balcony when Sesshomaru comes to visit.

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Moments after (or before) I took this photograph, Killikilli (that is not her government name) bit my nipple and I thought “if anyone ever tries to convince me that breast feeding isn’t a sexual performance EVER they are full of SHIT”

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She is the most amazing creature ever. So are maggots.

Of course: it is worthy of note that Chihuahuas are magical creatures too, but to me it is important to acknowledge that birds and insects are also equally worthy of their magical note.

In other news – I have been living in Brighton for almost half a year. I started tidying a few days ago (that’s when Killi waltzed into my life, being the least domesticated bird ever.)

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There are more photos.

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DATING ADVICE

narrate the date in the past tense as it occurs (to yourself) (in your head) (funnier for him to watch later) (technically it is the foundation for ‘obsessive compulsive thought patterns’ but the potential for one time speed run neural development has such fantastic long term benefits)

“he is staring at my arm hair”

“he hath HD zoomed in on a hair i could discreetly remove with the tweezers in my bag. he hath begun to cruelly, relentlessly and unforgivingly telepathically neg my arm hair, only to stop himself – to observe some of my most traumatic memories, to avoid stirring erectile arousal perhaps”

“correct your sentences”

“he had begun to telepathically”

“??? no ???”

“it took me years to come to terms with that arm hair so i can tell already how this relationship is going to go. i’m not going to go home right now, im not even drunk. i wonder fi he’s roofied me. he had the shadow of a glistening erection forming at a cute bubble beside his sad flies. im gonna pretend he’s as hot as my favourite cartoon character and try to get pregnant (because I am never agreeing to meet or see him again. he’s paying for the food now. why do i feel guilty that he’s just paid £10 for this hamburger)

otherwise this evenge means nothing”

#datingadvice