Archive for November, 2013


::::specimen jar::::


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:::eat your heart out::::


this moment is turning back upon itself;
like so many before it highlights a desperate need to connect to the surround biomass. People and voices.
Perhaps this sadness is all chemical
or perhaps
these are just the tears
of a perpetual tourist.
Perhaps I really am driftwood.


::::the variable truth::::


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::::foggy notion::::


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::::today i am lost::::


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::::the freakbox::::


I inherited this laptop from the Mighty Timetheous. it is physically a wreck but i’ve got the software all shiny.

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So, I do this spoken word thing every Monday called OOT YIR FACE. As the night has developed and become more popular I’ve been getting less mic time. This is both good and bad. Good that the night is getting popular, bad that I keep coming up with sets that are far longer than they need be. Below is everything I prepared for the Monday just gone for your viewing pleasure.

Widget takes a little time to load so be warned.

::::karma burn::::


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gxlnar.


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::::cut the fuck up::::


Months old. instead they decided to discussing throwing her away and mum because try as they might they notice her. she so much craved when she was 6 she reading cinderella and was the first and last fairy tale cerridwen remembers.

overhearing the ignorance of people around her cutting their feverous losses. It was impossible this fact that was subjected. Some terrible task or simply beaten

parents sensed her presence
she was put simply
couldn’t not make another. simply take out their horrid lives upon every morning.

she radiated so like a burning mark upon her mum and cerridwen would curse her inner light to help relieve their queasy souls. she meadow of misery and labouring abuse. her. her childhood was a rolling immediately hated the lucky bitch. it it made her ache. every time.


She would curse her inner light every morning. She radiated so feverishly that It was impossible not to notice her. She so much craved the ignorance of the people around her that it made her ache. Every time her parents sensed her presence she was put to some terrible task or simply beaten to help relieve their queasy souls. She was an only child and this fact was like a burning mark upon her mum and dad because try as they might they simply couldn’t not make another. Remembers overhearing them discussing throwing her away and cutting their losses when she was 6 months old. Instead they decided to simply take out their horrid lives upon her.  Her childhood was a rolling meadow of misery and labouring abuse. When she was 6 she read Cinderella and immediately hated the lucky bitch. It was the first and last fairy tale she subjected herself to.


conglomorate


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::::when you want::::


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Cat Hepburn

Scriptwriter & Spoken Word Artist

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