latroneviator

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Yep:) Putin is a dick. Kudos to ramstein for doing a same sex kiss on stage. Shows how reporessive that “democracy” is.

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when did antifascista become a bad thing. noise band “ benito and the dancing mussolinins”

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I woke up and realised I was still asleep and dreaming lucidly.

The foreboding began and the panic started. I walked into the kitchen and my mother was there in a dirty white polyester gown with an indistinguishable Print on it.

It was disturbing to look at.

She turned to me vacant eyed and scheming.

I started to scream hoping I would wake up but , no. I kept trying, then I resigned my self to the fact.

I walked into the bed room. My father lay where I normally slept. He was emaciated dirt caked and covered in bedsores. I smelt him , he smelt off. I kissed him and told him I loved him.

He didn't respond. He got up and I could see the scars from his sternum down to his navel and across his abdomen. Like an upside down capital T.

alcohol interferes with remembering the dreams.

small mercy’s when we can find them.

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When I woke it was well past midnight and I was cursing her name. I had begged her not to go, that she didn't need the money. But in the end I was not about the money it was about Heroin. It would always be about the Heroin.

I couldn't judge, I had been drinking myself into a stupor for as long a I could remember. So who am I to interfere with her needs and wants.

We had spent then night drinking and fucking, the bed was wet with sweat and beer. We both desperately clung at sex as a release. emotionally, we were mutually unattainable and at best severely damaged.

I still remember her smell as I found it in her nape. Hot, sweet, bloody, rich ,comforting and beneath all that there was ammonia. As strange as it sounds I loved that the most.

I still remember the smell of her sex, how could I forget. It always comes back to her sex. It was raw,viscous, Sweet, salty, bloody and sweaty.To smell her sex was to drown.

The veneer other people saw was an amusing mask.When I would look in her eyes I would see madness and insanity bubbling beneath the surface. A desire for upheaval and chaos, a welcome unto death. but finally and in the end I could see myself.

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Bio luminescence.

"It was dark and the moonlight diffused through the trees giving it a ethereal glow. That said and as beautiful as it was I still couldn't see properly and my life depended on knowing what was in front of me, behind me and where I was running.

Hungry thirsty and unbathed for days I was dirt caked and wretched with raw scent. They had noticed my foray into the forest and decided to look for me. Diminished responsibility through mob mentality.

I was enthralled and as much as I would prefer not to admit it, I was in my element. This is a survival, this moment could be my death "come and catch me if you can?".

I was running along the edge of a ravine breathing in the scent of wet forest night simultaneously marvelling at how nature can smell brown wet green and dry and trying not to trip on all the natural detritus...If I fell it would be the end. I did not trust these men to restrain their beatings under the cover of dark and unobserved in the woods.

But the longer you run blind in the dark eventually you will fall and I did. Fortunately I crossed the ledge and fell down a small embankment of the ravine. I fell beneath some fern trees and crunched small in the shadows.

They were nearby fanning out as a group with torches calling to each other. The earth smelt rich with decay. If it could be bottle that smell I would wear it as a scent. I took small breaths contemporaneously enjoying the scent and listing to their movements...then it happened.

As my eyes adjusted to the lack of light I noticed the embankment I was wedged up against, garnering camouflage from the men began to glow with dots. It was littered with glow worms, hundreds of them.

The sight dissolved my hyper awareness and gave me comfort and relief. Something so simple, inconsequential and irrelevant to my survival almost brought my heart to burst.

For the first time that night I forgot about the danger to my life, the hunger, the dehydration, the violence and torture. For a moment it all dissipated and there was only myself and beauty..."

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it never ends,

it’s constant and unrelenting.

box breath down,

repeat again guttural horror, grieving.

just a shitty drunk haiku

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i don’t understand how there is difference?

i

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What a legend:)

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Day 2 and the still don't suspect that I haven't touched on;)

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Who's this wanker

[latroneviator]

Ughh

I'm a bartender and have been hospitality for almost 20 years. Looking at photos of other bartenders that are "respected" or "the best in the industry" I feel I'm drowning in a sea offal! Ugh