Lips | Demons | Silence


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In the water, not in the blood

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Dear one time friend, Your brother is a rape apologist It's not in his blood, it's in his head; for, being a 'friend', he can't resist fighting battles of he said, he said. Invite me for dinner but don't feel the need to explain away your shame, or that he lacks the eyes to see and ears to hear our plea Just wait until his smile finally cracks. When I look at that boy - whose lips can't be unkissed - with shoulders hanging heavy with dread hearing lies about himself with every turn and twist I think, 'Could it have been me instead?' So, among your family garden, he is the weed with which you all choose to coexist but know this well and clear indeed, your brother is a rape apologist; you'd do well to keep him away from me.  Of all the things in life I need, This I Knead. Share With Me.
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The heat before the kitchen... (Where to start?)

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"I think of myself as something of a connoisseur of procrastination, creative and dogged in my approach to not getting things done."  - Susan Orlean Much like most people I know, I know this is about to cast a damning shadow on the company I keep, I have developed a wonderful knack for procrastination. I had to come down to the diagnosis that, however non-professionally backed it may be, I am daunted by my own genius.  As the Susan Orlean quote above so aptly puts it, I am a connoisseur. One with a refined taste for something. My something happens to be caused by my human condition. The fine placement of being a hippy at heart (#HAH - this will be a trend, I promise), an artist, having an overactive imagination and always setting tasks for myself to do albeit all at once; these are what have helped me refine my procrastination.  I am no stranger to grand tasks but as I found myself reading an entry on askmen.com titled   Top 10: Habits That Make...
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