la planéte sauvage

my mother taught me to steal in the industrial zones

2011-10-17T16:52:00.000-07:00

collage cut-up of internet strangeosities

2011-10-17T05:09:00.000-07:00

if i thought there was nothing except this [life], i'd kill myself." The maids gouged the eyes out with their fingers. In the dinosaur world, people are always hunting for Latin ways to say, "I've got a really big dinosaur." A woman uses ski poles to walk around because her family is dead and she wants attention. that drum is my parents. If I’m going to win, I’m going to win no matter what. So if you need my panties I’ll give you my panties…because if I’m going to win I will win with or without panties. Woman Pressed to Buy Vegetables, man forced to have his clothes washed. They are both single and live a life of partying and fun and you know hot bread is very attractive... Madame Lancelin's eyes had been gouged out and were found in the folds of the scarf around her neck. i went from being two banana plants up to a thrill seeking shark who sold pictures of different toys i wanted! She ended up in the pot, like the other two...her flesh was fat and white, when it had melted I added a bottle of cologne, and after a long time on the boil I was able to make some most acceptable creamy soap. I gave bars to neighbours and acquaintances. The cakes, too, were better: that woman was really sweet. Italians would never do such a coveted and social thing like eating in the most unsocial place of all, the car. i want to be a sexy fighty monster who skins girls... "Are you (all) amongst the ones whom we will not be able to make citizens of Afyonkarahisar?" i comb myself at home, lessons of martial limbs sunday. pleasant in order to be popular to you. ''We're on an adventure! You're not on an adventure! 'Cause you're sitting on your couch like a loser. Smash your TV and have adventures.'' Sharks don't get cancer. the multi-dimensional Hedgehog/ Punkie/Blondie/Baby, "I wonder if I should run around (aimlessly)". juvenile mutation of "egg". I’m a sucker for jars and twine to have mopped the floor with her head.. 'a scrapegoat' Originally created in the late 1870's for no purpose at all, what can chaos do for me? For this reason, she did not have problems disposing of the bodies of her victims. and one of the daughter's eyes was on the floor nearby. The play has been translated and performed many times, and is responsible for introducing the word 'panache' into the English language. "Rzhevsky" is "one who causes people to laugh at him in a loud, unrefined fashion", or, perhaps, "one who neighs". Mona Fandey was a pop singer, witch doctor, and a murderess from Malaysia. as the mother and killer of her daughter, Stirlitz opened a door. The lights went on. Stirlitz closed the door. The lights went out. Stirlitz opened the door again. The light went back on. Stirlitz closed the door. The light went out again. "It's a refrigerator," concluded Stirlitz. not because you're queer, or you admired his balls.. "This sandwich is so copiously juicy, so rich with precious bodily fluids," says Josh Ozersky, author of The Hamburger: A History, "that it practically haemorrhages onto the plate. drunk person, seal drowsy in spring sun.

2011-02-08T14:43:00.000-08:00

This blog is currently under construction & will be up and running again soon.

ALL THE FRIENDS YOU CAN EAT

2010-03-15T18:20:00.000-07:00

greetings and salutations...

2010-03-09T01:39:00.000-08:00

so, hi. i'm chandler. i'm small and blonde. i like distorting reality, and i drink a lot of ginger beer, and i collect plastic dinosaurs. i also love matryoshka dolls, the runaways, severed body parts and anarchism. i am an atheist, and a theist. i have tiny feet and hands. i most often wear a pair of flowered doc martens on my feet. i have had the perfect leather jacket since i was 11, and it cost me a dollar. it was well worth the price. i used to want to be a bodhisattva in the ninth grade, and instead of talking to people i meditated on kerouac in the bright red light of the dark room in the photo lab. i never slept until i was five years old, and when i did sleep, i had night terrors about butterflies and insects swarming me. my mother would have to pour water down my throat so i could wake up. i think the only reason we see dreams as being nonsensical is because this realm of the universe is ruled by sense. the dream world is ruled by nonsense, and since no rules apply, we have no need to measure reality there. i love to cut things up.. fabric, paper, magazines, books, my hair.. and i spend a lot of time watching surrealist animations from 60s/70s czechoslovakia. my sense of humour is extremely dark, and i love talking to people (and listening to them) more than anything in the world. my boyfriend phil and i are made of the same atoms, just in different formations, and when we are very close we are the same entity. he is the most beautiful person in the world; we can read each others' minds. i love him more than i have ever loved anyone or anything and it continues to mutate and grow the more we live. we spend a lot of time adventuring around the city, drawing, blazing, eating really kick ass vegan food, and talking for hours and hours and hours. otherwise, when i'm alone, i daydream and draw and cut things up and suck myself into alternate realities where there are no limitations whatsoever. i love the universe very much.

the hammerheads play xylophones with fish bones

2010-03-08T14:20:00.000-08:00

cerebrum, cerebellum

2009-12-14T04:12:00.000-08:00

typical girls are so confusing

2009-10-02T13:33:00.000-07:00

never let the past elude you in illumination

2009-09-12T21:38:00.000-07:00

by my friend marcel nobrob! visit the ridiQlites

when i leave, there's nothing left to say

2009-08-25T20:12:00.000-07:00

dance before me like a million eyes

2009-08-20T01:49:00.000-07:00

william s. burroughs

2009-08-17T01:11:00.000-07:00

a month ago, i was drunk on a boat with the love of my life. it was the most conceptually pleasing thing i'd done in a long time. i've since decided that having a nice life is rather empty. i used to have a life full of 'nice' things that pleased me in thought. i'd think to myself, "this morning i sat by the window staring at the rain and listening to the beautiful noise it made on the glass. i ate an apple and drank a cup of coffee and wrote furiously about nothing. i did not see anyone, or do anything. i sat inside and stained my hands with ink. what a nice little life i have." i constantly put concept together with concept, sound and image and feeling. i was rather unhappy. life means nothing if it's pretty, especially when you keep it to yourself.

and that had nothing whatsoever to do with william burroughs.

things i like

2009-08-09T13:48:00.000-07:00

severed heads

plastic dinosaurs

mangos

cannibalism

matryoshka dolls

david lynch

underwater photography

murder

opium poppies

hallucinations

lucid dreams

hindu gods and goddesses

botanical illustrations

creepy baby dolls

amoebas

cockroaches

the human body

time

vintage tins and advertisements

anatomically-shaped heart things

trains

organs

faberge eggs

made me bolt/like a horse

2009-08-09T11:27:00.000-07:00

this morning i had a peach, two plums and a pear, then listened to joanna newsom. it was excellent.

eyes like telescopes

2009-08-06T11:19:00.000-07:00

punch drunk, high on junk, sad you are so shattered

2009-08-05T10:40:00.000-07:00

crack rock steady

2009-08-05T00:22:00.000-07:00

this is my boyfriend phil!!! he's in england at the moment, going to rebellion fest in a couple of days, having the time of his life. i love this kid more than anyone in the world.

is feeling really in existence, or just another cognitive dissonance?

2009-08-01T00:07:00.001-07:00

the fountain of life

2009-07-24T20:12:00.000-07:00

a toast

2009-07-23T04:22:00.000-07:00

LULA FORtuNE!

it hasnt got a beak.

drinking 40s and ohmygod that wouldnt even get me drunk;

i'm drenched in blood!

boring boring, david boring, david bowiecat, curl at my feet and the fur on the pavement,

doesnt it feel niiiiiice.

on the bus. sex hair. night reconnaisance. all the lucky people;

we're in love with each other. how weird is that?

baby that's so good, ohhhh

he moans, purrs in my ear

you're pretty.

i could stay in this position for the rest of my life;

grow into each other like plants with our leaves cuuuurrrrllliiiinnnggg beneath the

night sky, oh the orange trees. fruit falling at our feet...

jellyfish swim and i lose my momentum,

lie to your face, how does it make me feeeeeeel?

mr. dylan, crawl inside the hole in my skull and make me a prisoner of my own desire.

this is all your fault (its not.)

i think i'll light a cigarette and call it a day.

but maybe, just maybe,

i could find a way to make my life work out.

a real wild child, that one;

the things you teach your son.

strawberries! in the summertime!

dark star

2009-07-20T22:18:00.000-07:00

feed me a stray cat

2009-07-18T20:49:00.000-07:00

is the answer to this question no?

2009-07-05T13:34:00.000-07:00

forget everything you know. stop thinking in words and start FEELING.

2009-06-21T22:57:00.000-07:00

i went to the market to realize my soul, cause what i need i just don't have

2009-06-13T12:04:00.000-07:00

wire

2009-06-08T10:27:00.000-07:00

pertain to the effervescent, fragile mornings made of dew and mountain lions. night is the time, spin your life around my words and make me into a butterfly cocoon. eggs and milkshakes, hand me your letters, i'll be waiting at the starting line when the nina simone jazz songs play all through our heads in the middle of winter. kiss me if i'm smarter than you imagined, take a walk around in my mind sometime. bloodshot eyes dripping with longing and the desire to be comforted by someone you love. hold me and caress every eyelash with your lips as though memorizing elephants and uncalled for melancholy. i hear you speak, the words slash through my disconnected heart like razor wire. there's something in your voice and i'm not quite right but most of the time i know to be free. circus songs and naive melodies, rapture wrap the bronze between your tuning ears. anthropomorphize god in your every whim for failure, disaster and tragedy. turn the turntable over on me, pour your sticky kind heartbreak all over my smooth skin and kill the young and poverty stricken. let me caress the wisdom, wrap the uniform cases and undo my own demise. i can travel back in time, it's a gift i have, a certain power if you will. taste the blood and quicken the sand, with coffee and cigarettes, tea and weed, wine and romanticism and descartes and parallel universe theories. drink in the kitchen with your glass spilling and read poems to me, i think i can't be good enough because i'm too much of a perfectionist. sometimes the butterflies sing in their sleep of kaleidoscopes and aeroplanes. everything is gypsy sugar, lion candy. desecrate the innocent and benevolent beings, the prettiest artworks so crudely inscribed. tell me how the fabric fits and measure every ounce of me, behind your eyes lies something i cannot see but i rest easily knowing that i will find out eventually. a spiritual awakening, eventual. things to do today- paint my nails, read about murder and find enlightenment somehow. every inch of me shakes with some type of unusual terror as though i could never have a real human feeling, but what i know more than anything else is that i will never know what it is like for someone else to live in this world. fall asleep and dream an entire life, then wake up in your mother's womb. entrance the lovely child with your beautiful embrace, warm and inviting. walk around with you. summertime clothes and it shows, go where the sun knows to hide beneath the sky in moonlight. it's always there, just shining somewhere you can't see in a faraway country. wash your face with lavender and dream of me.

there is a dancer who gets high to the beat of record rhythms

2009-06-07T10:09:00.000-07:00

there is no officially sanctioned position for doing that.

2009-06-06T19:39:00.000-07:00

in yellow shoes i get the blues, though i walk the streets with my plastic feet

2009-06-06T18:23:00.000-07:00

did you see the frightened ones? did you hear the falling bombs? my blue velvet trousers make me feel pink. the star above you is crystal blue, but oh, baby, my hair's on end about you.

gentlemen take polaroids

2009-06-03T08:16:00.000-07:00

sex born poison; prince from the biomass

2009-06-02T16:28:00.000-07:00

quicken the circuits, swim in your flesh, encapsulate the gaping wounds and pull at bones beneath the skin. can you feel it? rewind, recoil, there's matter there. bleeding hearts never remind the rapture of ill repute, house of broken daggers, mirrors, cyanide glass and candles. precipice, principesa, sharp points shining in the moonlight. disintegration renewed with each breath you take for me, my lips your lips our bodies are intertwined and there's nothing of yours that isn't mine. trumpets playing uniform brocade archaic orchestra here comes the sun, little darling. hello my love. send my everything in the mail and play your soft sad sweet guitar. pretend i'm an impossible creature and read your poetry.

2009-05-30T10:25:00.000-07:00

the most beautiful dresses are made to be taken off.

2009-05-29T12:27:00.000-07:00

the world's a mess, it's in my kiss

2009-05-29T10:38:00.000-07:00

sugarlight

we're addicts

why do you think we came

he's pasting gold leeches on my arm

we sharpen up our teeth

white sugar

he speaks french

memorizing torsos

he's open throated in the corner

hands arrive at hands

my arm is tired of waiting to burn it down

sugarlight, sugarlight

i can't believe

swallowing one bulb after another

in the city of electric light

why must you record my phone calls?

2009-05-28T13:19:00.000-07:00

today is my birthday. i'm sixteen years old and beautiful.

i belong to the blank generation

2009-05-27T12:34:00.000-07:00

darby crash

the clash

poly styrene (x-ray spex)

the adicts

eve libertine

the ramones

the screamers

debbie harry

richard hell

brittley black

questions in a world of blue

2009-05-26T19:24:00.000-07:00

fantastic planet

2009-05-25T13:02:00.000-07:00

la planéte sauvage (1973, rené laloux)

she wants to say it again, but she don't have time

2009-05-24T10:01:00.000-07:00

was this all i needed? cream coloured lace tracing each inch of skin. wrap yourself around my vertebrae and whisper hollow ghost sounds into the back of my neck (pretend you are nino quincampoix, ghost suit.) ten raspberry hats devoured one by one off of each fingertip. slow, thick honey in your voice as we laugh, echoes indent the smoke lingering before our eyelashes as though we could pull the physical world into our grasp. hands dance before us in a game of cat's cradle, every string a possibility. an opportunity to move any which way. and it sucks us into these realms beyond reality, entices and charms us to entertain the concept of beauty unseen by human eyes. we are real, we are living and breathing and happening right at this very moment in time. what is time? time is eternal, everlasting. in this moment, everything happens (has happened, will happen). i have seen so much in all these lives i've lived. perspective is a veil which alters our view of an unchanging thing. and no mater how you see something, it will always only truly be what it is. to think this way again blows my mind; i feel awake again. "he who makes a beast of himself gets rid of the pain of being a man." then we ate some mescaline, and went swimming. such beauty. the best feelings are those you will never know how to put into words.

i am drugs.

2009-05-22T00:10:00.000-07:00

i fell in love with the world

a solid soul and the blood i bleed

2009-05-21T19:26:00.000-07:00

time takes a cigarette and puts it in your mouth

2009-05-18T23:49:00.000-07:00

striking blond, curious creature, beautiful boys and their mascara lashes. wrap yourself around me and never let go of the pretty patterns on our clothes. never forget me, never let go of me. i want to know you for the rest of my life, everything about you. tell me the secrets hidden beneath your skin, read me like an open book. i'm yours. trace triangles and diamonds in each expanding iris; i'll be a spider with long legs and a red, bloody heart. spell out your desires in ink and when i sleep i'll dream, like i've never been alive. like i'm waking up, right here, right now, in this very beautiful moment with the stars burning across the sky. when scissors speak of you and me, they whisper in tiny cuts and punctures. and i never want this to end.

parrot fashion love

2009-05-16T16:13:00.000-07:00

faberge eggs krak under pressure!!

2009-05-16T10:18:00.000-07:00

i need to read this RIGHT NOW.

polygon sun allegro non troppo

2009-05-14T12:54:00.000-07:00

a complete unknown

2009-05-13T13:45:00.000-07:00

via fakingfashion

for my sixteenth birthday, all i want is to be free.

2009-05-13T01:36:00.000-07:00

there's something in the air besides the atmosphere

2009-05-13T00:34:00.000-07:00

if you are needing an angel of light, why don't you give us a call?

2009-05-12T23:57:00.000-07:00

i wish an earthquake would occur. i wonder what it would be like to be the log lady. i want to travel to another dimension.

and she was born in a bottle rocket 1929

2009-05-12T23:20:00.000-07:00

all drenched in milk and holy water pouring from the sky,

i know that she will live forever. she won't ever die.

bull in the heather

2009-05-11T22:17:00.001-07:00

devour me, your intoxicating wisdom punctures the beaten atmosphere, cyanide in your veins i say and twirl around myself, weaving in and out of perfection as you gather broken weeds for the morrow's funeral. turn my hair inside out, curly and affectionate, glare into my soul and see my heart hiding from truth. my lips are made of wax and i wonder if you notice i only like to taste you. what's the point, i wonder, of listening to the mushrooms on the radio? they never tire of talking about how pitiful i am. so i turn the knob to another station and listen to your howling voice between the peeling layers nestled around me, i can't hear what you say but i love you for that. there's nothing as equal or melodic as the rhythm of our movements, i step when you do and i know what i'm doing. there's nothing to wonder when you've got a girl wrapped round a boy wearing steel toed boots and a certain expression. i think of what his face looks like and wonder why i can't remember; there's something that changes with every second his heart opens. picture me in a pretty black dress, i'll wonder if my skeleton shall ever see the sun and stare into the sky to find god looking back at me. there's only a number of references i'll never get and blind irises spinning psychedelically. put the glass to my lips and inhale summer, i'll wonder what i look like with the numbness of my mind. are there parts missing in the wiring? make sure to have a look at the machinery. you'll only second guess yourself until you finish off. the dreamgirl takes a pen, puts it to paper, falls in love with the moon and finds herself awake in the morning. his arms wrapped around her waist, can you see? i can. kiss my violet veins and promise you'll escape someday. i care, i care, i care.

kiss my violet veins

2009-05-11T17:51:00.000-07:00

these albums are amazing.

the earth is my body; my head is in the stars

2009-05-08T14:26:00.000-07:00

with every heartbeat, i want you madly

2009-05-07T07:22:00.000-07:00

it's in my blood to always love you more.

kiss them for me

2009-05-06T19:53:00.000-07:00

who says? (it's good to be alive)

2009-05-06T19:37:00.000-07:00

i love this girl.

2009-05-06T19:30:00.000-07:00

un café

2009-05-06T16:40:00.000-07:00