Friday, May 29, 2009


The boy stood in the clothes store while his mother squeezed herself in a pair of enthousiastically tight jeans behind the little blue curtain of the dressing room.
He could hear her muffled groans and sighs as she tried to peel on the trousers.
Curtain moving a little, with every attempt.

He wasn't sure why his mother had taken him along on this shopping trip.
And felt slightly anxious to be separated from her by that moving curtain.
The feeling was emphasized by the voracious looks on other women's faces as they grabbed garments from the shelves and garment rails, the loud dance music in the store and the muffled groans of his mother.

He was just about to put on his best panicked cry, when suddenly....between two particularly wild looking women with ruffled hairs who were discussing who had dibs on a horrible pink and yellow dress...
He saw IT.

Standing at the back of the store, bare and fleshy pink....
Small beam of sunlight marking its location...
The only still item in a room full of movement, cries, music and fluttering colors...
Was a naked mannequin.

He left his mother for what she was.
Left her bags unattended.
And waded through the masses of women and clothes that had frightened him only a moment ago.

Ducking underneath a purple dress that swooshed over his head, he suddenly found himself face to face with it. He looked up at the towering synthetic figure and took it in.

The pink skin of the mannequin glistened slightly in the sunlight.
Its bald head softly rounded.
Piercing blue eyes staring into nothingness.
Light pink, slightly parted lips seemingly about to say something sweet.
Slender neck and shoulders.
Arms parted in a loving gesture.
Curvatious hips moving down into slender legs.
Feet attached to a metal plate.

Then up again...
To two small, round mounts.

He took a step forward and started a slow approach towards the statuesque fleshy pink figure.
Facing her, he softly touched her left leg with his right index finger.
It felt hard but smooth and cold.
He traced her leg with his finger, then gently caressed it, embracing the right leg with his left arm.
Slowly his hand moved upwards.
He let go of his embrace and detatched himself slightly, looking up.
His two hands now slowly reaching for the two round mannequin breasts.

His mother pulled him away with an angry grab of his right arm.
He fell onto the floor, his head banging against the mannequin's right leg.
Slowly the mannequin toppled over to the left, coming to a crashing standstil on its right side.
Its beautiful bald head split open, bits of fleshy pink debris scattering.

Tears welled in his eyes as he looked into her now graceless face.
He felt an emptyness he had never felt before.

Then he saw a piece of the eye staring at him centimetres from his mother's left shoe.
As she pulled him up he grabbed it quickly and clutched it in his hand.

The eye felt smooth and warm.

He smiled, his face wet with tears, while his mother furiously dragged him out of the store, her hands full of shopping bags.

He wasn't scared anymore....

Thursday, May 28, 2009

Prelude to summer

Summer dresses

Flickering in the wind
Like colorful butterflies
to fly off 
into sunshine

Pale bodies slip in
Come out tan

Grass stains
scraped knees

Small rivers of sweat
in evening

Leaving soft
of dried

Soft buzzing of
mixed with murmour

glasses being 
with cool drinks




Saturday, May 23, 2009

Sunny side up

So, I guess putting up my blog address for all to see, now means I should get jiggy with it and write something remotely interesting on here from time to time...

So, what's on my mind?

Well, it's been the weirdest week I've had in a long long time...and the saddest week at that.
The day before yesterday my little 2 year old kitty was found dead in somebody's garden.
And today's the anniversary of my dad's death. 
But what you guys don't know is that the cat is sort of symbolic towards the latter.
Today would've been her birthday....and a few months from now, on my dad's birthday was the day I took her home, 2 years ago.
I knew both of them for just 2 years, and they both died very young...
I dunno...
Yes, very....

But for sure another eye opener on how life's wayyyyy too short, and can end at any given time.
You don't need to be a 89 year old to go into that endless of slumbers.
It could happen today.
This is why I believe in savoring life, in enjoying every minute of it.
Wallowing in self pity, I cant's and it has no sense' far from constructive.
You gotta grab life by its balls and squeeze out everything you can.
Nobody wants to look back and think "what if"...
Follow your heart, follow your's the best thing you can do...

And so I live with the sunny side up.
Even if I too can be utterly cynical and negative about stuff (hey, dude, I'm human!).
Crap happens, after all...

But it never lasts...


Sunday, May 17, 2009

Mini punches...

As he looked over the raging hilltops at the glorious scene before him, he scratched his buttox and thought; "Damn, my ass is tight!"


"It's madness!! MADNESS!!" he thought...and continued cutting the salami...


Bending down, he peeled the dogshit carefully off his left shoe with a short stick, and thought; "Wonder if she has solid boobs..."


Feeling faint, he dragged his shivering body onto a chair. 
Delicately touching the folds of his trousers, he thought; "Need to get Playboy"


He looked at her intensively with a raised eyebrow, as he wiped his mouth clean; against all expectations her tongue didn't taste like m&m's...

Gettin' jiggy with it...

Saturday, May 16, 2009


As eyelashes flicker the itch remains, burning up in the smouldering sun, each drop of sweat lingering...
(8 minutes ago from web)

Flexing muscles lure in the unexpected...
(6 minutes ago from web)

Leaving me breathless. Hesitant to enter the darkness.....that follows...
(2 minutes ago from web)

(17-04 2009)

The origin of oceans

Were created

Not by rainstorms

chemical reactions


pouring down
your back




Snippet #3

And anther one...
(Yes, told ya it's a dark shabang! Teh script does have comical notes in there somewhere tho....just a little...hehe)


Purple days... 

Purple days rattle in my soul, like karaoke dancing langoustines. 

I see a face in the mirror, but I'm unsure whether it's me. 

Each speck, pore and wrinkle seems to belong to somebody else. 
Somebody I don't know. 
Yet they seem to think it IS me. 
...little do they know... 

How can they? 
They still believe everything's paved in gold. 
They see sculls covered in diamonds and think death is beautiful. 
...well maybe it is... 
...maybe it's me who has lost the plot... 

I'm wearing a clown face, after all... 
Who does that?? 

Shit, I feel like such a fraud!! 

She looks at herself in the mirror. 
A heavily painted face looks back at her. 
Slowly she raises her right hand and streaks her face. 
The immaculately painted make-up gets smeared in one long colourful streak. 
Half her face is immaculate, half is smeared. 

Then the door opens...

Snippet #2

And so....another snippet of that which I'm writing...(sexier one)


-I want to tackle you. Throw you down on a wet mattress and have my way with you. Hard.-

She looks at him defiantly, a smile on her red painted lips.
He looks back confused, trying to find a escape route, but he has to pass her to get away.

-Chaz...I...I...heheh...I didn't mean it like that! I mean...I was just joking!-

-Were you? Well I'm not.-

She approaches him threateningly, slowly unzipping the front of her tight body suit.

-Look. I don't really want to sleep with you, ok? I was just kidding, teasing you a little. Hey, I'm a guy, that's what guys do!-

-Well, what can I say...I liked the proposition. I've wanted this to happen for a long long time now. So get ready to deliver what you promised me....-

-No, listen I...I w...

She moves closer and closer to him, still unzipping slowly.


He seems really scared now, his body in full escape mode.
She pretends she doesn't see and approaches him until she's standing only a few centimetres from him and looks into his face, close enough so he can feel her breath on him. She lowers the upper part of her body suit until her bare shoulders are visible.
He looks nervous, curious, slightly tempted but at the same time not very happy about the situation.
There's definitely some inner struggle going on in him...he doesn't seem to know whether he should accept or decline the offer.
His hands move towards her bare skin but hesitates.

Suddenly he bolts and runs out the door as soon as he reaches it.
She looks at him calmly, dresses her shoulders again and turns around as she zips her body suit up again.
She smiles and walks over to the mirror.

-No more sexist jokes in front of your friends for you, you fucker.-

She looks at herself in the mirror and sighs.

Snippet #1

Small snippet of the "script" I'm currently writing...


She looks at the falling snow.
Feeling strangely melancholy...
How can thoughts and feelings get so intertwined?
She takes a bite out of her tuna sandwich and listens to the muted sounds of the city.
For a moment closing her eyes, while the tuna gets mauled by her molars.
Feeling the pieces of bread and fish slide down her throat.

Chet Baker blows his tunes softly out of her living room speakers.

Everything seems cushioned by the white flakes falling from the sky.
Even her thoughts are muffled.
She sighs and presses her forehead against the cold pane of glass.
The cold damp window presses against her skin.
A drop flows down over her forehead, cheek and jaw until it falls into the nothingness between her and the window sill. 

"I have to remember to get some milk", she thinks

Monday, May 4, 2009


What is it with me and sleep these days...
Nights shorten as days elongate. 
Snoring of neighbors in comfortable beds. 
Sleep calling, yet holding me off.
Until the chirping birds of morning unveil how time has passed. 
And night is no longer night, but day...
What else to do but to read, write and hope for sleep to find me..

How can it be that precisely then when sleep is most needed, it decides to go and find better pastures?
Sleep is not only comforting but sometimes has a torturous soul; like a bad lover, it drives you in, makes you crave it, but then spits you out.
Dont take me wrong: I LOVE sleeping.
But for some strange reason it has decided to play a little game with me, these last few weeks.
It wants me to continue without it, to use every available hour of the day to work and theorize and think.
It wants me to analyze complex structures, to think about philosophical issues and find words to write stories with....

I just want to push all those things aside, grab sleep, hold it tightly to my chest, cradle it, and nestle myself under the duvet with it....

The waiting game has begun...