{ 04.01 } .. . medic

white noise

My brain feels like it’s being boiled. There is a faint odour of plastics and pork. I hear the murmurings of cloistered voices somewhere behind me, dissecting doctrine with textbook clarity. Or maybe it’s some low-key negotiations for a secret exchange. What could it be, I strain my hearing and hurt my neck instead. The blood bubbles grow bigger inside my head.

I have to stop these constant shots of espressos; I feel like I’ve been freebasing caffeine for the past three days. So far, I’ve kept the jitters at bay, but it’s like I’m chewing tinfoil and constantly forgetting to swallow.



spiral scratch
lost highway .. . { hank williams, the original singles collection }
devil’s haircut .. . { beck, odelay }
el matador .. . { los fabulosos cadillacs, vasos vacios }

{ 03.07 } .. . amethyst

a charm to sobriety

Well, I could say that it was all worth it, this clumsy strip mining brought to bare. But haven’t I lied enough to you, already? I could serenade you once more with pretty, purply words. I could promise to take you away from yourself. Or to take back all your time I wasted.

What I can really do, though, what’s within my means, is to take this soiled ashtray and throw it all away – the lipsticked butts, the charred and tarred – even the cracked dish, too. Better a clean break, I say, than a dirty bruise.

So goodbye to you, I guess. I wish I was prepared to remember the right bits about you. I wish that I had treated you less like a figment of my feverish animal self.

I wish you’d been the answer in the questing spectrum between what I want and what I need. Instead I see the only answer, by a wide mile, is ‘so what?’


spiral scratch
poor joe .. . { dizzy gillespie, jazz ’round midnight }
i only said .. . { my bloody valentine, loveless }
sha-la-la-la-lee .. . { small faces, from the beginning }

{ 03.06 } .. . anilic

drawing blanks is harder than it looks

‘Why are you being such a prick?’

Why are we having this conversation still? What more do you want? I don’t understand these questions. Can’t you just fuck off?

It’s not a reflection on you. In fact, you’re not a mirror at all, unless it’s the funhouse distorting kind, where my head always appear too big. Your faded beauty reminds me how easily we toss away our temporary advantages, and i can’t bring myself to see past that. Perhaps I’m worried that we bring out the worst in each other. It could be that it’s too hard to pretend I’m not sub-prime when you’re around.

Maybe it’s just time for a change.


spiral scratch
a milli .. . { lil wayne, tha carter iii }
ballerina .. . { van morrison, astral weeks }
this modern love .. . { bloc party, silent alarm }