He dreams of fishnets, supple thighs and her tongue against the head of his erection. He imagines her hard nipples between his fingers as he squeezes her small breasts. He likes them small. Closing his eyes, it’s all too vivid and filthy as bodily fluids cover each other’s bodies And her back arches as she… Continue reading .12 wet dreams
I’m depressed, in a rut, bored or whatever. I’m depressed. Outside of the dull repetition of life I’m stuck with my imagination- my perverted mind. The permanent sweat patches stain my bed from lack of sleep and masturbation… at least three times a day. I can’t stop… I’m perverted. I’m depressed. I crave the touch… Continue reading .11 depression and desire
Tapping my Oyster I pass through the gates, head down craving a shot of caffeine and a cigarette. I spy the Dr Martens, slightly warn and her pink socks poking through the top. I raise my eyes and fall in love. I fall in love with her style, so casual yet so fashionable. From the… Continue reading .10 girl on the overground. (long time no see)
Late night karaoke with Brit-pop anthems blaring. Five cans down and you’re a rock’n roll star unstoppable. Sneering, nasal epitaphs of former glory. You reminisce times gone by, now seven cans and onto your second pack of cigarettes. Cigarettes and alcohol you sneer boasting a life of only your dreams. With 10 cans brings your… Continue reading .8 cigarettes and alcohol
Stand by me- The din of the homeless man outside Strumming his out of tune guitar singing pop songs of decades past. Four years I’ve passed him, Four years I’ve heard him sing the same songs. REM, Leonard Cohen, Bob Dylan. All songs filled with such warmth. Even a man with nothing can produce these… Continue reading .7 stand by me
A minimalistic caricature of your living room in pastel blues, pinks and greens. The saxophone oozing from the radio hi-fi dancing to the rhythm of the gentle drums and bouncing bass. Close your eyes everything turns into pastel, elegant, simplistic and bright. Sounds turn into a smooth ambient fusion Of synth and jazz. Pastel… Continue reading .6 life in pastels
The sun is high as birds fly by, chitter chatter all day in the hot spring of May.