lipstick’s never wrong

Strange what blackouts do to me…

A windy November evening with a cloudy sky, ready to weep… And a  fortunate moment, to find a candle I can light.  The soothing darkness is ready to sustain, to feed your projections. It will help you watch yourself unfold… Maybe around that little light.

A Saxophone is playing in the background, rocketing its way up into long misplaced memories – slowly vibrating, crying over a profound loss. It flickers painfully, in its sleep it twitches – stirs, but doesn’t come to conscience…

And there I am, sitting in front of the candle, listening to an old song I used to love, trying to pay attention to the ripples in the surface of my emotions…

I’m a fatalist, I can’t deny. Why should I?

If you think, that I’ve given up on me and the world, I must disappoint you. It’s a bit more complicated than that. Trust me. It’s not about giving up…

It’s about being stubborn. It’s about leaning back, cause you know what’s coming your alley. Breathe. Loosen your ties. Don’t tense up, no remorse. You hear me? Brace yourself, relax. Endure it with a big fat smile on your face. You’re fucked up anyway. So why not going with the flow?

To all hardheaded women out there!

Go apply your reddest lipstick. Show your wonderfully sharp, pearly teeth (fangs). Show them to the world.

You should look like you’ve tasted life’s sweet blood, and you’re thirsty for more…