Profile
|
|||||
| User: | faceintheembryo (692386) |
||||
| Name: | Fitz Fitzgerald | ||||
| Location: | new york city, New York, United States | ||||
| LJ Talk: |
|
||||
| AOL IM: |  Fascist Cat (Add Buddy, Send Message) | ||||
| Bio: | sister catholica, are you ready for smoke? teething on crucifix wooden splinter dance habbit and rulers that pinch choking-on scriptures with numbers perpetual sin and cosin tan and square roots branches and boughs tear wild excreatment roots cleanching and tearing harpies howl and blaring along the hazzy sun of east september rapping backs autocratic tiny insicions of hail and track mark static rolling down pelham, milking a train with banchees and utters and milk soft like cocaine dirty water cleansing vegabond daughters carry the cross on the last train track throwing bricks in the last carriage taking a toke watch for the piss and follow the gin that tickles your throat like astrigen. open wounds wounded soul alcohol burns but its rubbing ameloriating the pang of burdening crosses-and Moses will stumble, cat smirk like plastered concrete holding a caked face together. Find me the Lord and inhale the burning bush . Praying to allah while wrapped in hindu-kush Lucky on Bowery diggin for pennies, red flickers of russet sparkle like his hair the train seats like our throne and the bottle out chalice the fur clanking hells that grimace in malice. we give em a soul, jimmie dig through your wallet, matrys for allah, poverty strapped on like a time-bomb. (shalam. shalam) explode or implode? Made to give clanks a conscience, rotting in dystopia, knees imprited with rice. The train rolls down the rumble is frightneing, but we suck at the chyrstal and faux our enlightment Mind offically scatted, past glue cos we've lost all four pieces,but dont you pout, cos absinthe will help me find jesus, take a chug and it scrapes, but look who i see! Ginsberg you bloke, thought you've been dead for years. winked at me and said "it was practacal, and a matter-of-factual , haven't you heard, deaths a super market in california, and mortality's absurb. So I nod a bit and look to my companion in numbers, and she shivers from thunder. train will colapse, our hym like a muezzin's , mantra inebrated and liberation celebrated. though here at our liberty, we tighten the shackles. eyes copulate, staring, shrill syringe cackles. (for Kris)  Sorry. Try again later. | ||||
| Memories:: | 8 entries | ||||
| Interests: | 55: after school television specials, axomatic arbritation, ballkicking huxley, barrabas, being incoherent, bossing cattleactors around, breakdancing with jesus, cherry trees, chewed paper cuts, clive barker, creating languages, dystopia ballkicking eutopia, filming with brokenmomentum, fridays in absentia, garbage trucks, ghost, ginsberg, hc anderson, indephriable garbble, isreal, kenneth branagh, khaye, king lappin, losing all control, mejia-nethermessiah, muezzins mantra, my ruin, nabokov, naked lunches with burroughs, ovid likes to boogie, politicomanifestos written on candywrappers, pulling from the shadows, queen lappinova, ricoel gamgee, road trips, russia, saetia, sappho, shinto, slap on braclets, supersecret journals, surrealism-the iceburg is sinking, surrealist manefesto, surrendering, the brothers quay, the smiths, this fishbowl generation, tipping scales, writing on napkins, writing on train seats, writing screenplays, zenobia breaks a nail, вечные студенты, говорит, прогуливать | ||||
| Schools: | None listed | ||||
| Friends: | |||||
| Account type: | Basic Account | ||||
