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Day to Day

Welcome Gestures

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Day to Day

Melbourne Mediocrity at its Most

Here. Here’s a picture I hope represents who I want you to think I am. It’s me at my best. Or at least it’s me pretending not to be my worst. In truth it’s shallow and false and it’s all for you. But not the real you, just the you that I think I see when you’re just trying to show the best representation of you. And why wouldn’t you, when all you see is the best of me twice filtered through tried and tested algorithms that make extra sure it’s the best of me always looking back at you? How can we possibly compare, not only to others, but our own false image?

Where it once felt as though representation was pure, an expression of self untethered to the weight of the body we are suck with, now it feels heavier than any object that would not crush the marrow from these bones.

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@}’-,—    @}’-,——-    @}’-,—

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Day to Day

Love is a Coma, for the lucky few

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Day to Day

Moment of Trust

It doesn’t make you confident. If anything it’s the ritual that makes you confident. It makes you lazy as it fogs the conscious mind and sends you into a waking sleep. It makes you worse and it makes me awful. The trick it plays is that it affects the memory of the time you shared together, makes you remember a better experience than you actually had. In reality it make you sick but tricks you into forgiving and forgetting. Australia is an addict and as far as drugs go it’s a dull choice. But for many it’s a solution, one that  while it’s solving your problems makes you worse at dancing, sleeping, paying attention, being productive, being happy, making friends, making sense, finding love, feeling love, making love, being good, feeling good, being creative, making music, remembering what’s important and existing. It is both the easy way out and the hard way out and I love it, too much to bare.

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Day to Day

Enjoy the Process

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Day to Day

Banned, Banned and Perma-Banned

“Hello,
I’m a man.
I’m also in a Riot Grrl Electro-Clash band called Kill All Men & Their Fucking Egos. My lead singer is called Kill All Men and I’m in the background, I do the production and design and my stage name is Their Fucking Egos. We’re only small at the moment but we have 2 singles and around 87 fans on our fan page which consists of male and female fans alike. We’re not a dangerous organisation, we don’t advocate violence of any kind and have never posed any direct threats to anyone nor do we ever intend to. We do consider this project to contain more than a touch of social commentary, which we consider more than appropriate for our intended audience, and as far as I can see violates none of the guide lines stated in https://www.facebook.com/communitystandards. I think someone’s just got the wrong end of the message and is messing with us for the lolz, or perhaps has just got a little over zealous and hasn’t taken the time to find out what we’re all about. If we are violating any rules please let me know which ones so I can be more careful in future, we’re just a band trying to get our music out. I don’t really want to risk getting my personal profile getting shut down so we’ll do what we can to help.

Thanks for your time, hope you have a nice week.

I look forward to hearing from you.

Thanks again”

– Sent two hours before getting perma-banned.
– Funnily enough a year after this I realised that I wasn’t a man. That’s one less we have to deal with I guess hah. Maybe they knew?

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Day to Day

Hung to Dry

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Day to Day

Lilies Dressed as Lilac

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Her scent, gently floral and both delicately and overwhelmingly feminine, left an undeniable mark on his usually unwavering psyche. It could be found on occasion, softly perfuming in his expensive sheets or embedded under his nails after a particularly extended evening of dear tenderness they shared, but today, as a constant reminder of her sweet dewy embrace, it had found it’s way into the pores of his very being. It clouded his vision and without hesitation it distorted reality as it engulfed him entirely.

It does so as he unloads phallic vegetation of green and orange and purple onto the black vinyl domestic belt. Like the red eyed paranoia of the smoke tinged teen who passed before him, he had hoped that the plain but pretty clerk wouldn’t catch notice of his intoxication, but then again, he too was too high to care.

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Day to Day

Baby it’s Cold Outside

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This post was a god-awful brainwashed trashy mess, infected with the teachings of an alternative health understanding of the root causes of neurologically atypicality. It has been censored to prevent further shame on my behalf and to protect you from drawing similar conclusions on matters for which you have no right to form judgements. I have luckily lived and learned. Mainly through being diagnosed with the original subject of this post. Thank you karma for showing me the error if my ways.

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Day to Day

Bananas for Ananas

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