satisfaction and pain
melting fruits of disdain
unbelievably strange, to the point where i cant place a number or shape to anchor into the real world. except it does exist, i seen it. I watched it. but still, I cant help feeling like witnessing it was such a unique experience, it might aswell have been conjured solely by the shimmering patterns of migrating birds, or reflection of metals through compacter mirrors.
parker posey, as a girl situationally trapped as her own version of Jackie-O, who's only sexual…
hot pink late night phone calls on transparent phones. supermarket murals. queer dysfunction and TV hum-soaked confusion.
disillusioned gay teens wandering through a gen-x desolation posturing and fucking and over confidently stating The Facts. Ghosts of society left to die and be dead. being a teenager is hard enough, but being a queer teenage nihilist, left to wander art installations and industrial concerts and car parks and gas stations and shit jobs looking for love in Bush's Conservative America? fuck…