And whilst I'm doing my homework.....I made a short series

And whilst I'm doing my homework.....I made a short series

The white screen blinds these eyes slowly.Gently and quickly; the dirty air will cease.In this room, I feel my own breath and inhale my own body warmth.The road on the next morning is there for pure unadulterated shitting,wetness from the night before is setting into the ground and my tears may follow it.I have no reason to be this emotional; actually, that’s a lie. I have every reason to feel this wave of angst and indescribable shame. The greyness of my eyes and skin give away the hot pain of the lost youth of my freedom. Freedom of my 90s is the freedom that died.



Buttercups and dandelions. Blossoms and tulips. I watch these flowers and their eyes are on me. Obscurity in its deepest form when entwined with watchful nature. Man’s own sightings are dogged by conscience and the drippings of greed’s fat stink up the fucking air.Flies on wall and the homeless crawl the sidewalk. Oh, wait, I meant the pavement; I forgot I was British for a second. Well, the night is young and I’m desperately trying to feel it up.



My mind, my head. Is gone.My spirit, these eyes are weak.The love and living of my youth is dried.I feel old. So old.Weathered and battered.I smell of garlic. My sister told me that.

Races of the cultures, fellow fathers of all falls.Legends of my falls and glitter of tomorrow’s ancestry.Gentle swayer of the old and new world; commander of the guilds.