I Ache In The Places That I Used To Play

Feudal power ravages the petals of the rose with chlorophyll schemes of machiavellian ferocity.

 

Sometimes witing comes from inspiration and/or inspiration comes from writing. A before and after one can be certain of. 

 

Pornography does nothing for me but disappoint so I'm glad I have a good imagination. 

 

When just to type is the most enjoyable thing one can imagine doing. 

 

Writing is a soothing balm to the rawness of depression. And to write well is life's cocaine. 

 

I'm tense in the head and tight in the mind. Raindrops echo where thoughts originate. 

 

Across borders between zones the spys who are so secretive they don't even know they are spys. 

 

Bruised all over by the truth of facts, I crave the comfort of my lover's love. 

 

Facts are like a stable yet often changing mirage. 

 

Beliefs and facts will conform to my mind. 

 

Euphoria is exhausting but more compelling than exhaustion.

 

My mind ahches with a limping bleeding sadness. The beast that never dies. 

 

I have nothing left to think what more is there to say? 

 

 

 

Sculpture by Jake and Dinos Chapman

Title comes from a Leonard Cohen song