Last weekend I dove into Camden Town to get a bit of the Amy Winehouse feel before going to see the film about her life. But like the film, I kept it a bit boring. I didn't use drugs, did sniff weed on the street and drank a Camden's Hell and Guinness. But that was... Lees verder →
It's just sex We were in film history class. German Expressionism. What I found an incredibly fascinating art period, did nothing for a while. It was as if Faust was sitting next to me and whispered, go now man, do it now, you'll be rid of it. Nosferatu, Murnau 1922 It was Rusty sitting next... Lees verder →
The humiliated and trampled haunted my mind as I lay at the end of the stairs. After a hellish climb, I reached what looked like my grave. I wished they forced me into psychiatry and then flattened me, so I would know nothing more, a 'Tabula Rasa'. Fucking nothing more. The Tao physically implanted so... Lees verder →
Much too late, weary creatures unable to find sleep wanders down the streets. It is such a night, where the wind petrifies my gloomy features and I dance and clash with the darkness of the night. Groaning in a period of restlessness, I jump back into the valley of banality. Shadows follow and whispers poison... Lees verder →
Fastfood romantics 