i thought it was safe right
back behind smokescreens of neurosis
and ego red herrings right
at the very back

until they reached in
extracted it

as if it were just a marble that had
rolled under the couch

 

 

 

 

what is it that called us
we shut our eyes      we visualise a sacred udder
        why must worth be externalised
        why is semen supposedly vaccine

the hands of he,       anonymous shaman
directs my head near
to suckle on Pan's udder
and be vaccinated

sickly sweet mildew,     sucrose burns the throat

(sweet as) honey

i'm in the mood to drift around on alot of Valium tomorrow with a cigarette webbed to my fingers. sip a hot chocolate while i draw the solar system, thoughts trundling so slowly it's as if they're in honey.

really wish i could have slept with jack kerouac

i'm tired of my bedfellows and how
they've stuck around
like there's no one to throw their useless shit out
                    no teacher to regiment the room
unruly pupils puberty-drunk              there are twelve of them and one of me.
        
they've slept with me here
last night every night
behind the sockets
more nights than any bedfellow
of the material fleshy kind

soft flesh limp in his briefs
knee hair itches my thigh.

drew this after seeing this exact image in my mind's eye just before a snooze.




 

something fungal

remember that time we both got

   tinea

waddling down the hallway, legs spread

minced garlic dripping down our naked
                                              thighs

i never had ringworm before i met you.

i settled on the couch, thighs searing

knees at 90 degrees

feet perched on the table

cigarette webbed to my fingers

and as you waddled into the room

with each step shifting your weight

from side to side

                                                                            legs so comically spread

                                 i laughed about how much we resembled Tiny Tim,

                                                     slow and purposeful in our labored gait

i don’t know, i was delirious by then

it was 11p.m. and i was hungover

and for what felt like weeks

i hadn’t seen you,           now reunited by fungal growth in tandem                                                                                  

            in your hand, manuka honey

            and two cotton buds

            and i laughed and thought

                                                                                           sweet as honey

                                                                                         he’s so beautiful

thighs burnt until the edge of sleep

and in the half-light of six a.m. i felt you shift

heard your waddling down the hallway

i put on Velvet Underground and closed my eyes,

and in my mind I

visualized you still here

somehow still asleep with your smile

watch out, the world’s behind you

there’s always someone around you

                                                            who will call

 (it’s nothing at all)

the door slammed in its distinctively thunderous way and i

reached for the antifungal, on its side

the flattened tube curled in that diminished way

like a scorpion’s tail or a question mark

right beside the untouched water

       over on your side of the bed.

Male Bisexuality, Body-Reading, and The Danger of The Guy In The White Lab Coat

I originally found this study disputing the existence of male bisexuality a few years ago. Basically, the 2005 study involved a cohort of bisexual-identifying men viewing both male-centric and female-centric porn, with monitors attached to their genitals to measure arousal. Based on the results, the psychology professor Gerulf Reiger leading the study concluded "In men, there is no good evidence that something like a true bisexual attraction is out there."

The nature of this study (validating or denying desire via the measure of genital arousal) involves the much criticised approach of "reading the body", which white supremacist scientists once used to rule other races as inferior to Caucasians via skull size! 

I believe that a widespread erasure of bisexuality (at least that of males) within Western society can be attributed to a taxonomic urge... Our society tends to only accept things as existing if they fit into a dualism, i.e. gay or straight. People pay a lot of attention to scientific studies, and whilst I myself am fascinated by scientific findings, I do believe it is important to keep in mind certain elements to scientific study such as limitations, process, sample size (this particular study eventually drew from 22 bisexual identifying men, 21 heterosexual identifying men and 25 homosexual identifying men), who is conducting the research AND who is funding the research... It's like Judith Butler's inclusion of the Speech-Act Theory; as long as faith is had in the guy in the white lab coat, it may as well be true. 
I digress... This study is very interesting because of its attempt to catch out, disprove and debunk the bisexual male with its findings. It is a body-reading study that attempts to taxonomise desire and human capability for desire.

                       "The majority of bisexual men got aroused to men and only to men. This study fits the picture that ... men are very target-specific. They have an object of their sexual desire and go for that ... The pattern is that they have this object specificity — it does not change." 

- Gerulf Reiger.

In my opinion, this study is a load of bullshit and no amount of guys in white lab coats or scientific studies are going to tell anybody who they can and cannot "truly" fall in love with or engage with sexually, regardless of what their bodily organs do. No amount of taxonomizing is capable of dissuading them of their bisexuality.

Edit: It's also interesting to note that the findings of around a third of each orientation cohort were not even included in the final results... As the article notes: "9 of the heterosexual men (out of 30), 11 of the bisexual men (out of 33), and 13 of the homosexual men (out of 38) did not become genitally aroused by the videos and were dropped from the final analysis."

me.

disclaimer: this piece of writing is from:
1) my old blog*,  which I have long since forgotten the login details to
and 2) September 2013, so things were very different then to the way they are now. starkly more... precarious, let's say. it was around the time that the psychiatric unit was a serious consideration.

     The universe is presenting me with increasingly more evidence that for/I don't know how long/I have been making an innumerable clusterfuck of bad decisions. 

I'm not sure when that pattern of bad judgment began but it was sneaky and clandestine and in the middle of the night.

It's funny how long it can take people namely me to realise real accountability

   or responsibility 

  or consequence and I probably still haven't realised these qualities yet/I still employ a little defence mechanism honed by years of use, which is completely faulty like 

assembling an IKEA desk with only half the instructions and

  missing pieces, yet a defence mechanism employed so regularly that the process is automatic and i don't need to honour things like    c o n s e q u e n c e.

     My ego defences are pretty good so it's difficult for me to define exactly how complex this Little Girl With a Shotgun Inside My Head's particular mechanism is 

 or what exactly makes her tick 

  or how to disarm her, but what's for sure is that she'll probably keep doing alot of damage internally even while her intentions are Only Good.
   For now I'll leave it to my psychologist to reason with her


*old forsaken blog: andthenthiscameout.blogspot.com.au

i woke up cranky and it's lingered all day. that in itself is okay. i can deal with it in my own space      but if there are others around all i have to offer them is irritability, and really no innocent bystander deserves to have their own energies sullied by my grouchiness.
i think it's important to feel your feels; they're present for a reason, even if you can't identify said reason on an intellectual level.
my own solution is time to myself. aside from early mornings the other main reason i get cranky is my space being restricted. so the longer i am in close company during a grouch the more i try to distance myself from others via subconscious passive aggression; i grow more misanthropic by the second and it feels real ugly.
although now, having learnt all that, i let my feels be felt, when i can i find my own space and acknowledge them and let them out. if i'm really angry i play   l o u d   enraged music or i punch a pillow (i have alot of anger inside me from the past but that's not for right now). anyway it's cathartic, i highly recommend it. as long as your feels and their expression don't impact on or hurt any other living thing in any way at all - that to me is very very important. aside from anything else that would just end up making me feel worse.
it is nobody else's energy to release but your own. i really like the saying "do no harm but take no shit", there's truth to it. if you're really angry at a person's words or actions acknowledge what your feels are, and express what the person has made you feel before you approach them. also take into consideration your own role and perhaps why they've acted in such a way. this can help both of you and prevent the blockage from happening again. and if there is not an opportunity to approach them, find your own closure. once you have released the visceral and, afterwards, made sense of it, the feels no longer serve you and can be let go of. open a window and visualise the energies leaving you. burn some incense to clear you and the space around you.
love and light earthlings