The Afterlife of The Party

This was the scene.

"It's too late"
"Was it ever early? Why did you call me here?"
"He's gone"
"Who?"
"Him"

It was a Thursday evening and everyone was in their rooms, asleep, condemned in analogies.
So appropriately awkward that another police siren blared exactly 2 minutes later.
Polly was too tired to think but not restful enough to lie down. The pub that night was without drama or plot, an image of violent violet fluorescent over dusty mugs and ashtrays.

The chair was there, and on it was her.

"It's too late"
"You're still here"
"Did you hang yourself?"
"What? What is this an irish joke?"
"Did you?"
"...I don't remember"

The stairs, there was nothing else to remember. The biggest harm of all. Discerning memories off a sea of perspective and paradox. To choose to forget. To choose to...

"You don't understand"
"No one understands you"
"It was the night, the negros, the voodoo"

It did turn to morning, that was certain. She woke up denying that she ever slept.

Which side of the bed did I get off or not,
I've forgotten,
So it can't be real.

Is it graffiti if other people won't be able to see it?
Or is the whole point just to damage property through honest acrylic?

Verona March, Prostitute, 21:
I wasn't there, I doubt anyone was. It was all noisy and shit I expected something exciting ya know. To think it was just. Blasphemy. I wasted a good client on that.

"Report says she's never taken any recs or medication, sir"
"Report?"
"Yes sir, I took it out from the archives sir, just like you asked.."
"...there's something ...dodgy about this"
"I feel it too, sir"

If I close my eyes,
Then maybe I won't feel.

The sun doesn't smile on the concrete form of men but it smiles on the obedience to illusory.
Polly occupies a diner now. To see others, was to see pass a torn barrier of reflections.

"You know I'd still give you your soup, honey. No matter what you tell me"
"Because you're kind, I know"
"Share it with me, it'll be fun. Awkward, as always. But fun"
"Doesn't love just seem to blind you, Doris"
"God is great when love is blind"
"God?"

When you're on the brink of a cliff, and you feel no fear of jumping off, you feel no urge to turn back. You feel that there's nothing stopping you. There is no external force guiding you. You're free. To choose but never to be chosen. Existence. That's what it is.

In the trash can. Post-it notes on the window panes. As though someone was trying to dwell in the ecstasy of routine while filtering out any sense of hope. Because hope is a nursery rhyme.

Specifically this one.

There was an old woman who lived in a shoe
She had so many children she didn't know what to do.
She gave them some broth without any bread,
Then whipped them all soundly
And put them to bed.

"So what's the special today?"
"I can't tell you"
"Well, if it matters that much...."
"Haha, shut up"

Sleeping next to him was a long-lived enigma. She could see what he was doing to me. She could see what I was doing to him. She could see everything. And yet know nothing.

Rain often loses itself inside it's own fading choreography. But this dance seemed like it was going to last forever.

"Did I really kill myself?"
"Well, I don't know. But you were leaving that's for sure"
"Come on, Lilith. You know"
"Never more than I know the funeral dates of the stars, Polly"
"Are you comparing me to a star?"
"Don't flatter yourself"

Lilith,victim's best friend, 19:
They had to destroy the door.

"No one cares if you die"
"You would, wouldn't you?"
"That's because I am no one"
"How did we get here?"
"Shit Polly, we're in a damn pub, have some sense of doubtful intuition once in awhile"
"Alright"
"You hear that? The fuzz is here. Some prostitute probably offered Sgt. Pepper some uninhibited love, I bet"
"What can I do?"
"Leave something behind"

Drawing pictures in my mind,
Trying to feel my pain

Polly was mad at the violinist. To play a tune that resonates into the emptiness of an alley would just get you killed. Maybe that's exactly why he's here. To welcome salvation but to prepare drinks for death.To say fuck religion but hail Satan.

"They're not giving us any information"
"But what are we investigating? A disappearance?"
"Can anyone really confirm absence? We're cops, Ravi, not philosophers. Heck, I can't even philosophize my way out of a donut"
"Yeah, what happens if we have to murder one?"
"Murder what? A donut?"
"No, sir"
"I wouldn't. Not now anyways"

Follow the porcelain kitchen sets. Forget semen, blood and hair strands. A legacy is never deliberately a sin.

"Don't burn the curtains!"
"SHHHHH..do you believe in heaven?"
"What?"
"Heaven? You know, happiest place possible? Heaven?"
"......why now? When you're burning my curtains? What has paradise got to do with a piece of fabric cotton?"
"Answer my question"
"WHO ARE YOU"
"You've thrown yourself too far into the pit, Polly, I am nothing as you are nothing as everything you see right now is nothing.Save for the only thing that you can't even see"
"I just thought you'd be sleeping with me..that's all.."
"I did"
"...the cops are here"

If lust can be exuded through reluctance, then why not anger through composure?

I try to bend it,
And it hurts

"Uptown, 60th Ave"
"Yes, miss"
"You can see me..."
"I wouldn't be a taxi driver if I can't see, would I,miss?"
"You talk funny, where are you from?"
"Nowhere"
"Before nowhere?"
"Oh..Czechoslovakia"
"I'm glad. Finally, someone I haven't seen in my entire life"
"You don't go out too often, eh miss?"
"The people here are all the same..er.."
"Faris"
"Yes, Faris. They're all the same here"
"You're saying such a sad thing but you're smiling like an angel"
"Haha, 60th Ave is pretty far isn't it?"
"With the traffic, it will seem far"
"As long as it takes forever"



New Jersey, 13 March - _______murdered through immolation. ______ no remains found.______premises undamaged.__________woman's identity non-existent. A man who calls himself The Painter __________________.

Strips of paper cuttings were left to fly across the checkered kitchen floors of a newly rented apartment. A cat trailing along between the legs of a refugee. Not to run away. Just to stay somewhere else for quite awhile.

I'm another too endless,
So do you think I should end this?

Sin Where?

Clouds are marching along,
Singing a song,
Just like they do,
If the clouds were singing a song,
I'd sing along,
Wouldn't you to?

If you just knew what they could do,
If you just knew what would they do.

And if the birds are just lettered words,
Flying along, singing a song,
What would they do, if they just knew,
What they could do, if they just knew.


You know I'm glad,
That I never gave a damn about the weather,
Cause it never gave a damn about me.

I know it's mad,
But if I dig a well, will you dig with me,
Or just leave?

I know it's mad,
But if it was time I was defending,
Will you just leave me?

Clouds are singing a song,
Marking my wrongs,
Just like you do,
If the clouds were playing a song,
I'd play along,
Wouldn't you too?

If you just knew,
What they could do,
If you just knew,
What would they do,

And if the words are just feathered birds,
Flying a love, Singing a soft,
What would they do, if they just knew,
What we could do, if they just knew.

I know it's sad that I never gave a damn about the weather,
And it never gave a damn about me,
No, it never gave a damn about me.

And I know it's mad,
But if you broke and fell, I'd call the doctor,
And just leave.

I know it's sad,
That if the sky was bending I would kiss thee,
And just leave.

Cause they never gave a damn about me.

Hey Moon

If all our life is but a dream,
Fantastic posing greed,
Then we should feed our jewelry to the sea.
For diamonds do appear to be,
Just like broken glass to me.

And then she said she can't believe,
Genius only comes along in storms of fabled foreign tongues,
Trippin eyes and flooded lungs,
Nor the downpour sends it love.

Hey moon please forget to fall down,
Hey moon don't you fall down.

Sugarcane in the easy morning,
Watered veins, my one and only.

The ink is running for the page,
It's chasing off the daze,
Looking at both feet and wounded knee.
I miss your skin when you were eased,
You clicked your heels and wished for me.

For playful lips made of yawns,
That fragile cat forlorn,
Unraveled words like mobs upon old stars,
I know the world's a broken bone,
But paraplegics call it home.

Hey moon please forget to turn round,
Hey moon don't you turn round.

So she came in the breezy morning,
What invades my one and lonely.

You are at the top of my lungs,
Drawn to the ones who never yawn.

Bye moon.

Anna Will Die Under Summer Red Skies

I wanna be rich,
And I want lotsa money,
I don't care about clever,
I don't care about funny,
I want lotsa clothes,
And I want lotsa diamonds,
I heard people die while they're trying to find one.

And I'll take my clothes off,
And it will be shameless,
Cause everyone knows,
That's how you get famous,
I look at the sun,
And I look in the mirror,
I'm on the right track,
And I'm on to a winner.

I don't know what's right,
And what's real, anymore,
And I don't know how I'm meant to feel,
Anymore,
When do you think it will all become clear,
Cause I'm being taken over by the fear.

Life's about filmstars,
And less about mothers,
It's all about fast cars,
And cussing each other,
But it doesn't matter,
Cause I'm packing plastic,
And that's what makes my life,
So fucking fantastic.

And I'm aware of massive consumption,
And it's not my fault,
It's how I'm programmed to function,
I look at the sun,
And I look in the mirror,
I'm on the right track,
Yeah we're on to a winner.

I don't know what's right,
And what's real,
Anymore,
I don't know how I'm meant to feel,
Anymore,
When do you think it will all become clear,
Cause I'm being taken over by the,
Fear.

Forget about guns,
Forget about ammunition,
Cause I'm killing them all,
On my own little mission,
But I'm not a saint,
I'm not a sinner,
But anything's cool,
As long as I'm getting thinner.

I don't know what's right,
And what's real,
Anymore,
I don't know how I'm meant to feel,
Anymore,
When do you think it will all become clear,
Cause I'm being taken over by the,
Fear.

Phosphorent Pubescent

I think I have this strange affinity of looking up.

Ceilings, skies, skirt(ings of overhead windows)

Occasionally, I also tend to look inside me.

I guess that answers my enigmatic dreams of dissecting rodents to Overture.

Basically, there was this old Baroque joke that Mozart played so passionately because he wanted to express the lack of any hair product that that could tame his scalp-located beard.

There is talent in scruffiness, and the entertainment industry has proven that time and time again.

Clouds are scruffy, and they're wonderful aren't they?

Fluffy is the better word, I guess. But so is white.

Well to continue on my pursue of scientific conundrums, chemically speaking, solids are very appealing.

I mean doesn't it fascinate you that somethings just can't go through walls?

I know it makes the Southern people happy.

Speaking about getting through walls, I have come up with this ingenious plan of a store that sells walls.

It saves space, it destroys all barriers, and you don't need to waste money on racks.

I mean I came up with a name already.

Wall R Us

Hilman would be proud.














I think I'd like to end this post on a high note.

F#

Anti Ganda

Freedom,
Is a religion,
Can't see,
What's in your region,
Plates out,
Glass eating manger,
You fool,
And doubtful,
Priest.

Gods,
Fall through the ceiling,
Kids,
All too revealing,
Smile,
You leave,
This place for tonight,
And then you go to graze,
Oh such a lovely, modern phase.

Stars,
Why do you seek them,
Prey,
Why do you need them,
Bo Peep does,
What Bo Peep wantss,
But she never gets,
Her full-paid funds,
And everyone,
Stays up to have some fun.

Faith,
Is like decisions,
Faith,
Will be your leisure,
Don't,
Suffer a lesion,
Stop,
They're burning pigeons.

They don't have to burn the books,
They just have to tell you not to look,
Making rockets like a pyromaniac cook,
If they give you food,
You let them,
If they give you feud,
You beg them.

Nah,
Somebody's watching,
Eyes,
White metal shillings,
If they close them,
You'll just be like me,
And have no friends,
Love authority.

Maybe,
You wait,
Maybe there's a cage,
Freedom,
Is a bigger prison.

Take,
The only medicine,
Pills,
It's make-up season,
When it's fall,
And,
You just call in,
The thieves with their hearts on their sleeves.

Fair,
I'm just a seeker,
Fare,
Bus ticket's cheaper,
Cool,
Just like the icebergs,
Hot,
Don't sleep in the fire.

Because the sound of music is a lyre,
To the bullets of paychecks and wires.
For why do you see,
The pixels in seeds,
Hypnotize by numbers,
Forget what it means.

I can't confront you,
Because you're not here,
But if you were beside me,
I'd boycott you, my dear.

Sometimes it hurts,
That preachers don't work,
And teachers don't lurk,
Like policies in smirks.

Well I see the cancers in the eyes,
Of blindness under shirts,
And the Machiavellian lice,
Cause you just don't care,
How's your hair,
You just care,
That it's fair.

Oh, darkness is bare,
Yellowing scares,
And brown is everywhere.

When I Go

If we're both not married by 22,
Could I be so bold, and ask you,
If we're both not married by 23,
Will you, make my year,
And ask me.

If we're both not married by 24,
Will you pass me those kneepads,
And I'll get on the floor,
If we're both not married by 25,
I hope that the sound childish sparks,
Still alive.

Cause there are so many lessons,
That I just never get to learn,
And there are so many questions,
That still burns,
Like will you hold,
My hand
When I go.

If I get to 30,
And I don't have a wife,
I'll ask you nicely,
But I won't ask twice.

If I get to 40,
And I don't have a spouse,
I'll fashion you a letter,
And I'll send it to your house.

If I get to 60,
Will you slip away,
Into an armchair for
The rest of my days,

Cause you've got your family,
And I've got mine...

Willed love will be shared,
For another time.

Cause there are,
So many lessons,
That I never got to learn,
And there are so many questions,
That still burns.

Like will you hold,
My hand when I go?